Friday, February 26, 2010

You're Invited to My Pity Party

As a wife, it is never comforting to receive a phone call from your husband at 7:00 a.m. the morning after he works the overnight shift at Methodist Hospital where the first thing out of his mouth is, "Well, what I have to tell you is not very good news, but I have to tell you so just listen, OK?"

Of course, my heart stops beating for second as I brace myself, white knuckling the steering wheel on my way to school and thinking, "What now?"

In the nearly-three years we have been married, I have received several of these phone calls from Luke. 100% of them have lead to some sort of expensive car repair. In 2007, Luke's Alero was smashed into at high impact on 38th Street to the point where his car finally stopped next to a tree in the front yard of someone's house facing the complete opposite direction it had been traveling in. The trunk was smashed inside of itself, and his golf clubs were broken. The car was totaled, all at the hands of a cracked-out druggie who forgot how to drive his stolen Durango.

Other fine moments have included getting rear-ended pulling out of Hamilton Town Center, getting rear-ended on 96th Street this summer, and having to replace the transmission (I think twice) in the Malibu.

Of course, you could read about his running out of gas on 69 incident that happened a couple months ago in a previous blog entry.

So, I pretty much knew where this conversation was heading. He had been rear-ended, or ticketed, or towed. Surely.

Well, Folks, we traveled into uncharted territory this morning because my dear, sweet husband's car was broken into (via smashing the passenger window), and our GPS system was stolen out of his center console. Luke had to work the overnight shift at Methodist Hospital downtown, and apparently 11 cars were broken into, "smash and grab" style.

Of course Luke's car had to be one of them. Why wouldn't it be?

I immediately starting crying uncontrollably. The thought of a person putting his hands on our stuff, rifling through compartments trying to find something of absolutely sickens me. It is such a violating, gut-punching feeling. Luke was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He parked in the closest lot to the hospital. He was at school, working on call for nearly 24 hours straight. He didn't have the GPS hanging on the windshield, not even the bracket or the suction cup, therefore no indication that a GPS was even in the car. Nonetheless, he and 10 others were victimized by low-life thugs who surely needed the items to pawn for important things like drugs and hookers.

I want to vomit at the thought. In fact, I want to vomit only after I find the assholes and punch them in the balls. Sorry, but that's how I feel.

I am so completely SICK of pouring money into Luke's cars because of things that are beyond our control. He got the window fixed today at a price of $185. Of course our deductible on our insurance is more than that, so we had to pay for it out of pocket.

Additionally, Luke needed to buy a 2nd key for his car because he only had one, and we learned this the hard way when he locked his keys in his car last weekend at my mom and dad's house. He also wanted to program a keyless entry remote that was purchased on eBay for his car like...a year ago. Well, nearly $170 later ($50 for the key, $49 for the "service fee to program the keyless entry," and $70 for a different keyless entry after the one we had bought didn't want to program correctly), he was good to go.

So, let's see...that makes spending nearly $400 on the car in one day! What joy! Especially right before the baby is born!

Yes, I know that it could have been worse. Of course I am thankful that Luke wasn't hurt in this whole mess and the idiots didn't think to pop the trunk and find Luke's new golf clubs in the back. Of course we know not to keep valuables in our car, even if they are hidden. It just sucks that this world is so messed up and sickening that you can't trust that you're safe anywhere at any time.

Possibly the most unfortunate thing of all is that my view of this world has taken a sudden turn for the sour just a mere 3 weeks before I am supposed to bring a new life into it. Baby E, you're in for a treat.

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