you've got to be kidding me!

It's 10:52 a.m. and as usual, I'm running late. I have eight minutes to get to my Spanish class, clear accross town. I run out the door, slam it shut, and fling open the door to my car. I throw my bookbag to the other side of the car, toss my purse into the passenger's seat and plop down in the "queen's chair," as I like to call it.

This morning my car has a bad feel to it. It just doesn't feel like it normall does. It feels foreign to me, as though it's not even mine...and that's when I notice it. Someone broke into my damn car! AGAIN! My dashboard is pulled completely out and it's cracked all to hell. The wires that use to be connected to a Sony Xplode are now just dangling in the open space.

I can't believe it. This is the fifth time my car has been broken into in the last two-and-a-half years. FIVE TIMES! That means I have supplied some punk-ass kid with over $750 worth of cd players that they will turn around and sell for 50 bucks. That doesn't even account for the hundreds of dollars that I've put into the two times I've had to replace the driver's side window. I immediately grab my phone and start dialing.

"Thank you for calling American General Finance. How can I help you?" the girl says on the other line.
"Yea, can I talk to Tyler please," I respond in a pissed-off tone.
"Sure. Can I tell him who's calling?"
"This is Val," I said, trying not to lose my patience. There are only four people that work in Tyler's office, and that includes Tyler. The other three are all friends of his and I have been around them a million times. I've called up there for Tyler a million times, and yet every time I call, the same girl asks me who's calling. Today is just not the day for her professional bullshit. She knows damn well who I am! Just put him on the phone!

"This is Tyler," he says.
"Tyler someone broke into my damn car last night."
"Oh no. I'm sorry baby. I didn't even see anything this morning when I left for work. What all did they take?"
"They took my cd player and the watch you got me for Christmas."
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry."

At this point I have to get off the phone with him. I'm in such a pissy mood I just don't know what else to say. I hang up and then call my mom. She doesn't answer so I leave her a lengthy message explaining every detail of the situation. After I hang up with her, I start texting all my friends to tell them about my misfortunate event. At this point I can't decide if I'm looking for sympathy or just wanting to send out the message, as if telling everyone is going to bring my stuff back.

I pull into an open parking spot in front of Morgan and run up the three flights of stairs to my class. I can't pay attention to anything Professor Tenney is saying because my mind is focused on how I'm going to find the little punk that took my stuff and I'm going to kick his ass! For all I know the burglar could be some 350 pound man, but the way I feel right now, I would still attempt to hurt him in some way.

So now it's all said and done and I'm left driving around with nothing to listen to but my own thoughts. Contrary to my previous beliefs, I can only hope that some 16-year-old kid will pull up next to me at a stoplight with his music blaring. At least in his attempts to look cool I will have something to listen to.