After a day like today, you think to yourself that it can’t get any worse and the shock and surprise when it does get worse is not as shocking and surprising as it should be. You have learned to roll with the punches, or simply no longer care.
Real estate here in the bay area is astronomically high. I am trying to save money until I can get a job which will enable me to afford a place. I am getting unemployment from NYS, but $300 a week doesn’t quite pay for a 1 bedroom apartment at around $1,000 a month. (I have seen studio apartments for as low as $800, but not too practical for three people). This is also an incentive to get a job and not just build website after website.
Last night I decided I wanted to try to find a place nearby where I spend the majority of my day. (A shopping center that has multiple places to eat, a gym that I have a membership with so I can shower, and a Starbucks that supplies me with internet, all this is also a mile or better from my wife.) I found a hotel not too far away and I thought that if I spent the night in the parking lot no one would raise alarm to a suspicious vehicle with out of state plates in the parking lot.
I parked my car behind a Comfort Inn in a city nearby, and went to sleep in the back. Around 2:30am I heard a noise that sounded like someone was pelting my car with gravel. I woke up and looked around, then heard it again, this time I was able to focus on where it came from. Someone was hanging half way through the window and trying to remove the GPS unit off the windshield. I thought I had done well by turning the unit off and covering it with a hat. The suction cup that came with this unit rarely worked and I had to use Vaseline on it in order to get it to remain on the windshield otherwise it would fall halfway through a complicated turn that is accident prone even to a veteran driver in that area. Otherwise I would have listened to my wife and removed it every time we stop.
Considering the other factor that I was in the car, also made me feel a little more comfortable. My wife has the uncanny ability to predict the future, which leads her to saying “I told you so” more often than I like.
I gave this stranger a long stare, thinking “what’s the deal with this guy”, then laying back down for a split second to have my eyelids spring back open with an abnormally amount of alertness. Without thinking I started kicking towards him with both feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum, with about 90% hitting the passenger headrest and the other 10% missing the headrest completely, giving him the possible impression that I was most likely having a seizure. He didn’t even flinch; he had to know I was in there before he broke the window. One shot grazed his shaved head and he continued trying to unplug the cigarette adapter with the rest of the GPS, suction cup and all in his hand.
Discovering that I was getting nowhere, I sat up and attempted to fight him hand to hand. He unplugged the iPod cable from the stereo and I changed course for that. Reaching down towards the gear shifter I jammed my thumb into the gear shifter, pealing my fingernail back. I grabbed the other end of the cable and gave it a good pull taking it cleanly without hurting it or the iPod.
He backed out of the window and took off, falling onto the back side of the car placing both greasy hands on the clean surface of the rear fender. I backed down into the backseat and rolled so that I was at the door; I pulled on the handle and realized it was locked. I pulled up on the lock with such force that my hand slipped off the top and hit the ceiling at the same time I was pulling the handle a second time pouring onto the asphalt like an overstuff closet. In just my socks I stood up to chase him on foot but all I could see was a black BMW spinning tires, with a broken or missing license plate light turning the corner. He got away.
I turned to the car, and then turned back to the corner he just left behind, and then did a double take just to make sure this was really happening. Everything that just happened was starting to set-in; I could feel my pulse raise and my breathing get heavy. I had just engaged in an altercation with a potentially dangerous thief. I hadn’t evaluated any of that, fear, confusion, all of that was settling in after.
I went back to the car, thinking of what to do. My license plate is expired and I am sleeping a car behind a private establishment, do I call 911? I swallow my throat and take my phone out of the car, I make the call.
“Thank you for calling the California Highway Patrol”. For English press 1″
This is not happening, I called 911. Not the Highway department. I pull the phone away from my ear and take a second look. It’s the right number. Putting the phone back to my ear I hear the message again, this time I continued to hold it to my ear and heard what I can only assume is the Spanish equivalent. I check the phone again, and then pressed 1.
“All of our operators are busy, your call is important to us, please remain on the line and it will be answered in the ordered in which it was received.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it for nearly a full minute. It’s almost 3:09am, how can emergency services be “busy”? I hold the phone to my head for several minutes pacing back and forth along the side of the car. At one point I pull the glass out of the car as it was held together by the window tinting and threw it on the ground. Looking around the car I checked everything that I knew was in the area he was in, just in case he took something I didn’t notice. Laptop, camcorder, digital camera, handheld GPS, everything seemed in order. Then a thought came across my mind. With the amount of luck I have been having finding a job and getting turned away from place after place and my finances dwindling I was telling my wife yesterday that my luck is really bad and it can’t get too much worse. She assured me that I was in fact very fortunate because I was able to drive 3,000 miles and not a scratch on the car. The main focus of her argument was that I hadn’t gotten into an accident. This brought half a smirk to my face for a split second. It was quickly diminished with the continued thought of her yelling at me “I told you so” about leaving the GPS in the car.
After about 5 minutes on hold and constantly checking to make sure I wasn’t temporarily hallucinating when I dialed 911 I gave in and hung up. 3am in California would make it 6am in New York. My father would be just starting work. I gave him a call and somewhere along the lines in describing what just happened, I went from an Army veteran who without disregard just took on an armed felon, to a little boy lost and confused, crying as if he just dropped his ice cream in the dirt. After I was done he told me to take a deep breath and explain again what just happened because he didn’t catch a word of it. I did as he asked and walked around and put on my shoes. It was at this point I noticed my hand were all cut up and my thumbnail was bleeding.
My father gave me his famous speech where he tells me what I already knew but didn’t want to admit, I had gotten in the car and started driving at this point. I ended up in the town of Martinez and saw a cop parked in a shopping complex, I floored the gas and came to a screeching halt in front of the cop who was talking on his cell phone. I jumped out of the car like there was a fire and kept pointing at my car. The way I was parked he could only see the driver’s side in perfect condition. The words went back and forth in my mind about 20 times before I was able to figure out the proper order and then have my brain process them down to my mouth. Waiting for this to happen my mouth was moving waiting for the words, my hand waving at my car, and the cop sitting in his car still on the cell phone possibly telling whomever he was talking with that he may need backup and to bring the white jackets with long sleeves.
Words were starting to flow, the order still a little garbled, my arm not skipping a beat repeatedly pointing at the car.
“My window!” I shouted as if that was enough information. The cop giving me a look like he had hopes of a quiet night and I had just ruined any hopes and dreams of such a thing.
“Someone, someone” ok, the word order is getting closer to the right track, still missing a couple keywords. I have also doubled the size of the bicep on my right arm as it is still waving at the car.
“Someone broke my window” four words, at a rate of one word a minute; I should probably check the expiration date on that bottle of ginkgo biloba that I have been taking.
“Someone broke my fucking window” he is looking at me confused, possibly from the arm that hasn’t stopped flapping like a bird since I got out of the car. Adding the F-word expressed my sense of urgency to the police officer that someone had done me wrong and I wanted justice right now.
The cop hangs up the phone and leans back to give him a swing of momentum to get out of the car. My brain is processing this in slow motion; I glance back at the car and nearly hit myself in the face with my own arm that has lost all feeling from the excessive workout. I stop swinging my arm and use my left to raise it in hopes of relieving the pressure on my shoulder, however not being able to feel anything I practically dislocate my shoulder without knowing it. I look back at the cop; good he didn’t see me nearly hit myself.
I charge him ready to tackle him with my story. He places one hand on the microphone on his shoulder and the other straight out towards me and in a firm voice says, “stay by your car, sir”. I freeze. Completely confused I look at my car, and then look back at him, my brain is still working on processing the story, and he is adding new information this is going to take some time to review.
I take a step closer to my car, then another, I think to myself “I am able to think at normal speed again”. The officer addresses me, “ok sir, tell me what happened”. I spun back around, completely forgetting his previous request and began to charge him again.
“Stay by your car sir”
This guy must be paranoid; he doesn’t want me near him. I take a deep breath like my father had told me and began.
“I…, I was in my car, and… and..” The words that followed these would have baffled the world’s greatest cryptologists, not even I can remember what was said. The cop stared at me with one raised eyebrow and continued his puzzled stare. He was either new, had encountered a bad experience once before, or I was just one fry short of a happy meal and it showed.
He asked me for my ID, walked around the car and saw the window, I handed him my ID and just about broke down into tears from raising my arm that was beginning to regain feeling. He put two and two together and asked me where this happened. I explained “behind comfort inn”.
As he looks up from my ID he looks more confused and says “we don’t have a comfort inn here”.
I was sure it was a comfort inn, I was 100% certain. I tried to think of the name of the road, it started with an M. His eyes widen, “monument?” he asks.
“Yeah, that’s it!” I gave myself a mental pat on the back; I knew it was a comfort inn.
“That’s in Concord, you are two towns over” he continues to tell me, not once dropping the confused yet concerned look.
“OK, it could have been in Concord” I was getting agitated, why did it matter where it happened? I wanted this guy to go arrest them NOW!
He asked me why I was there and I started to tell him about my problem with 911. The continued with the fact that this guy stole my GPS, he might as well cut off my right arm, which nearly felt like he did now with the numbness completely worn off and the pain starting to swell.
“You’re going to have to go back to Concord and talk to the police there. This is out of my jurisdiction” As he finally changes his expression and lets half a smile slip through. “This is way out of my jurisdiction” I am feeling my self-esteem shrink more and more by the minute with this conversation.
I take a deep sigh and contemplate what to do. I am finally back to normal speed, my brain function in real time and an overwhelming depression sets in. Then I start to cop an attitude with him.
“What’s the point?” I say as if I am standing on a bridge ready to jump. “Am I going to get my GPS and window back?”
He can tell I am copping an attitude and he appears a little relieved as he is now facing me and not standing with his side towards me ready to defend himself from me.
“Well, we will file a report.” he continues
“And? How is that going to help me?” Still carrying my attitude laying it on even thicker as I am now implying that I could walk through a mine field without a care in the world. My car is damaged, my life is over.
This redundant conversation goes back and forth for a couple minutes while he gives me my ID back and tries to push me away so he can go back to his hopes of having a quiet night.
As he gets into his car, I ask if it would be alright to park under the street light in the parking lot we were in. He replies with “it’s not my parking lot”.
I pull over to where I had implied and park, looking back and forth at my window and the shattered glass everywhere. I got out of the car and paced around it, then called my father back and told him about my encounter. I told him I give up there is no point and gave him the same speech with the same attitude that I had just given the cop. However, my father wouldn’t take that tone with me.
I got yet, another lecture from him and he told me to go to the police station that I was directed to go to and I got back in the car and made an attempt, without a GPS. Having to attend a meeting I let him go. Then at around 4am I called my wife to tell her what had happened. My wife would sleep until noon everyday if my daughter would allow it. 4am is nothing more than a song by matchbox 20 to her. She did however, to my own amazement answer the phone.
I still don’t know why I called her. I think it’s possible I was looking for a little sympathy or to see if she is even a little bit worried, but my first assumption was right…, she went straight for the “I told you so” about the GPS and explained how she has told me and told me about leaving it on the windshield. Then went on about how I will never change and took my self-esteem from a 3 down to a negative.
I guess she does have a right to be mad; however it wasn’t the time in which I was anticipating it. I suppose I needed some words of encouragement and something to keep me focused and ready to keep moving and not just park the car and sulk.
After her lecture I was feeling much like I did when I learned Santa Clause wasn’t real on Christmas Eve, thinking that I wasn’t getting any presents the next morning. She then basically argued me to the point where I agreed to find the proper police station. I ended up in Pleasant Hill and conducted so many illegal turns without disregard thinking that if a cop does see me and pull me over I can flash the broken glass all over my seat and break down into a nervous wreck again before I demand to know where the Concord police station is. From Pleasant Hill I found a street named Concord, and guessed that it had to lead me to Concord. Fortunately, 3 hours after the incident I was in Concord.
I drove back and forth and in circle after circle afraid to wander outside of Concord again. Then I saw a cop. He was waiting at a red light talking on a cell phone, while I ran the light flashing my headlights I came up to him and didn’t capture his attention until I gave quick honk on the horn. I rolled my window down as fast as I could and stared at him waiting for him to do the same.
I waited, and waited…., this must me an important phone call. I am illegally blocking an intersection and he is giving me the finger to wait so he can talk on the cell phone.
He hangs up the phone, puts it away in his shirt pocket, looks on both sides of his seat, and gives me a look and a sigh, then patiently rolls his window down. I would hate to see the reaction I would get if this were an emergency.
It is probably a good thing he took his time, it allowed my brain to fully process what I wanted to say with enough time for it to jump back into real-time.
“Someone broke my window” I calmly told him as if I didn’t expect anything to happen. My assumption was right. He pointed at a parking space telling me to park there as he circled the block once to pull in neatly versus backing up 10 feet. They gave me directions to the police station as he claimed “this isn’t my beat”. So he obviously could not help me. I explained my story in full then giving my ID back he let me go.
I found the police station without problems; I was actually on the right street just going in the wrong direction. I walked inside and it was empty. There was a red phone that said emergency by it. I picked it up and placed it to my ear with care as if I was about to talk to the president himself.
It rang twice and someone answered, it was supposedly the cop who was going to help me. I explained that I am outside the police station parked in front of the “no parking” sign. I don’t want to go far from my car leaving it unattended.
The officer, who arrived, started asking questions and the question that was instantly on the tip of my tongue as soon as I saw him was “what did the guy look like?”
“Well, he, um, looked exactly like you” I was expecting a reaction from him, maybe some surprise, or some more questions, but I got an “OK, like me.”
I showed the palm prints, and explained what happened in a joking manner by this point I had no longer cared, I just wanted this part over.
He called in a forensic specialist to come and fingerprint the car and left me to wait. The forensic apparently didn’t start working until 7am and it was shortly after 6am when I finally got a cop who would file a report.
Fingerprints, jokes, lectures, my day was pretty much wasted as I tried to manage my way around the northeast bay trying to find everything without a GPS. I managed however I didn’t get anything productive except cleaning up broken glass and replacing the window with garbage bags and duct tape.
I took most of my valuables to my wife’s place and only kept a few things that I felt were necessary on a daily basis. The most annoying part is packing my laptop up every time I get out of the car and then carrying it around. I have an appointment at 7am tomorrow morning in Silicon Valley which I am hoping will land me a job however I don’t know if I trust leaving the laptop in the car and I am trying not to call my wife about every little thing. Lately I have just been giving her the “yes dear” treatment. No matter what she asks my answer is “yes dear”. So far so good. Don’t know if it will make her happy or piss her off yet though, but my saying that has leaned her away from the “I told you so” crap.
For now, I just hope I can get through the night without any interruptions. I am sleeping in the front seat tonight.
As far as this whole situation goes, I got rid of a GPS which will let me learn my way around here better, and it’s given me a reason to remove the tint on the two front windows that is illegal in California (and New York, but it’s hard to give a ticket with Tennessee plates). Personally, I got out of a scuffle without a scratch, minus the fact that I did break a nail.
