Dear Kids Who Stole My Car Last Night…

Posted by Lessa on November 18, 2008 in Adolescence, Behavior, Driving |

…and I’m presuming you were kids, teenagers, etc. since we didn’t actually catch you IN the act – we do know that you’re short, as you managed to pull the seat way forward. Heh. And since we’re unsure just which batch of neighborhood teenagers that you belong too (other then not MY group, because they OH SO WOULDN’T because they know better – but we’d be having serious words right now instead of writing to YOU if they did….) I thought I’d write an open letter to you, and all the other joyriders of the world.

First things first. Thank you for bringing the car back – or most of the way back.

Weren’t expecting that, were ya? Sure, the cops had been out looking for a couple hours, and you probably were the ones that got stuck in the ditch down the way where my sister saw fresh dig out marks, but at least you DID bring it most of the way back. With a dead battery since you left the lights on, and empty tank (I know, it only had 1/4 tank in it anyway. Sorry bout that.) So as it’s my only form of transportation, I do want to thank you for being considerate enough to take it back.

However, this does not forgive or forget the fact that you were assholes enough to steal it out of my driveway to begin with. I mean, SRSLY guys! From my DRIVEWAY? Sure, my dog who barks at everything, didn’t bark. And I’ve left my keys IN my car for the past 12 years. And you couldn’t have known I’d need to go pick up my girls a couple hours after the last time I came home. And you really couldn’t have realized that I would call the cops – after all, my late husband would never have called them, as he figured being a card carrying NRA member and lover of all things sharp and pointy, he could solve most things on his own.

But I am not he, and he is no longer with us.

Its just… mind-boggling. MY car? It’s a ’95 for heavens sake, an completely falling apart at the seams! The CV joint is going out (that would be the thumping you heard on the right front tire..), the heater is an external button attached to the dash with a zip tie with two settings – on and off (also known as HOT AS HELL and OMGFRIGID!). The front seat has a broken bolt and probably would fly out of the car in an accident, the ignition switch is going out… so on and so forth. Of ALL the cars on this street, you pick MINE? SRSLY?

Seriously, guys (or gals) did you really think this thing through? Is this the first time you’ve done this? I mean, parts of my keychain went missing just a couple days ago, and now that I think about it, I HAVE been going through more gas then usual.. not that I’m accusing you (ok, I am), just sayin’.

And then there’s this. Everyone in the neighborhood knows that I’ve a group of teenagers living here off an on. Everyone knows that I’m the ‘Cool Mom’ and that I would give you the shirt off my back, twice, if you needed it. Everyone knows that I’d take you for a ride if you needed to go somewhere, and if you’re one of mine or their friends, if you needed a car that badly, I would have HANDED YOU THE KEYS. All you would have had to do is ask. Instead, what you did was disrespectful, and seriously uncool.

I think you were compelled to bring it back for one of two reasons – you thought you wouldn’t get caught as maybe you’ve done it before or your simply that stupid, OR it was simply my good karma trampling all over yours – which means I’d watch my back if I were you.. because somethings gonna bite you. Soon. Either way, the car is here now, and the keys are in my possession.

I regret that now I’m going to have to start locking things up, and I feel there’s a bit of innocence lost in that. I don’t care for it much, and I don’t appreciate you stealing my Small Town Feeling away from me like you have. Next time, guys. Just ask. If you need something, just ASK.

Sincerely,
The Cool Mom.

PS. You left your flashlight in the front seat of the car with the keys when you bailed. Officer Jay would be happy to return it to you if you just call the Police Station. 🙂

PPS. My son is his Daddy’s boy, through and through. Just sayin’.

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