On Christmas Day you can’t get sore
Your fellow man you must adore
There’s time to rob him all the more
The other three hundred and a-six-a-ty-a-four!
My daughter and I braved the crowds yesterday. We went to Kohls and bought nightgowns for a relative and inexpensive jewelry for some teenaged friends. Then we went to Coldwater Creek and bought a couple of Christmas mugs and hot chocolate stirrers made of peppermint. Next, Walmart, a store at which I never shop for myself because I don’t like their business practices, but a gift card from there was on a list for a family my agent adopted. (She asked for gifts for this family in lieu of all the fattening stuff we clients send her this time of year. Great idea!) I am well aware that turning up your nose at Walmart is something you do if you can afford to, and not everyone can. Final stop: Petsmart for gifts for the new puppies.
Does the stuff in my car at this point sound like a haul? Tempting enough to try to pop my lock with a screwdriver, only to end up pushing the mechanism inside the door where a key can’t reach it, without actually getting into the car? Enough to screw up the window molding with a Slim Jim? Tempting enough to leave the nice lady and girl carrying doggy beds for the fireplace hearth with no way to get into the car? (You can tell I’m a nice lady—I have a “coexist” bumper sticker!) See, my key remote hasn’t worked in months, and there’s only one lock on the whole car.
All this in a neighborhood where, under no circumstances, does one leave a car overnight. A car with no lock is bad, but one with no tires? That’s what I’d have this morning if I left it.
Really? At Christmas? Well, of course at Christmas, that’s when people have packages in their cars. And as little as all that stuff was worth, I know whoever did it didn’t know what was in the packages. It’s a numbers game. The more cars you hit, the more likely there’s a treasure in there somewhere. It’s just annoying.
At any rate, thank God for my husband and his warm car and good company and the nice guy from Pop-a-Lock. It may have taken him over an hour to get there, but my car did not have to spend the night in the parking lot of a borderline neighborhood waiting to be stripped to the chassis, and DH, the Girl, and I had some quality time hanging out in DH’s Scion waiting.