My sister has this black jeep. My dad advised her not to buy it, because they get stolen pretty easily. But hey. She looks good driving around in that jeep. It suited her well, so she bought it while living in Denver. Ellen has lived in DC now for a few years and every morning when she walks out to her car two thoughts cross her mind. 1. Will my car be there? 2. If it is there, will my car’s windows be broken? That’s city living people. I guess it makes us all a little rough around the edges but keeps us real. People in this city love to break into or steal my sister’s jeep. I don’t know if its just bad luck or they like to pick on Ellen over and over. A few months ago she came out to find her jeep was gone. A few kids came and took it for a joy ride. Then they left it to have the cops come find the car. They didn’t take anything but a couple pieces of juicy fruit. I mean at least that was considerate of joy riders. My sister did have some good Cds and a sweet pair of sunglasses at the time in her car. So that made her a little less mad-their thoughtfulness of sorts. One day a month or so after that event she comes outside to find someone came and smashed her little side back window. Now she is pissed. I mean its raining slightly and that little back window is going to cost a few hundred dollars to get fixed. Not only that but it’s the crack of dawn and she has to go into work with little sleep to deliver a baby. It is a moment of bad karma with the world. Swearing she gets in her car and tapes the back window with a plastic bag. She almost felt like leaving a little note. Hello stranger. Please stop breaking into my car. Stop taking it for joy rides. Honestly, I don’t mean to be rude but its getting old. Thank you. I told her most people aren’t as rational as her and the note probably wouldn’t work. She left the car like that for a couple weeks as a gesture toward bad luck. Sometimes its good to just be mad at the world and how things happen. Just for a few days. Then you get out your citicard and get a new back window. Well a week after she is riding around with her little black garbage bag taped to her window she comes to find that someone has gently pried the tape off. Someone has been in her car. She searches the car carefully. Things seem in place. I mean its not like she’s keeping much in there anyway. I mean get wise right. But she knows someone has been in there. She has a sixth sense about it these days. Ellen then notices her gym shoes under her seat have been pulled out. In them she had a new pair of white gym socks. They are gone. And in their place are a pair of OLD brown dirty gym socks. They are resting inside her shoe-folded carefully. She knows it must be a homeless man looking for a fresh pair of socks. He has the decency to try to make a trade of sorts but leaving his old pair behind. Seeing this she’s almost not mad, she kind of wants to leave a new note: Sock Taker, If you want me to get a eight pack of white new socks for you. I will. Just let me know where I can drop them off. Its like can’t we all make a pact with each other.
A way to make better karma in this crazy place. Getting in her car, she pulls away, the black garbage bag flapping in the air as she goes.
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