Saturday, February 10, 2007
Just minding my own business
So I got off work at about 11 last night, as usual, and was cruising down Ocean Boulevard on my way home. "Ooh, the light at Shoreline's green," I thought, and followed the car ahead of me into the intersection. And then SCREECH! and WHAM! and BREAKING GLASS! and I had to swerve suddenly, because a guy had just made an illegal left turn right in front of the guy in front of me, and their cars went boom.
I pulled into the Villa Riviera's driveway without thinking, really, and ran over to check on things. A man standing next to an SUV was calling the police, and the drivers were standing next to their cars, looking dazed. (Actually, the guy who did the illegal turning looked drunk, but I'm not the police.) But then ... what to do? I was right there when it happened, so I should tell the police or something, right? Where is my mom when I need her? A woman ran up and asked if everyone was alright, and I said that they looked okay. I figured she was the closest thing to a grown-up I was likely to find, so I asked her whether she thought I should stay or go. "Oh, you should talk to them," she said. "I'll wait here with you."
The police showed up with lightning speed, which I was a little startled by. I guess when it's a big accident in a major intersection, they pick up their normal glacial pace a bit. I tiptoed over and looked involved, and finally an officer came over to talk to me. I waved goodbye to the nice lady (never did find out what her name was) and gave the officer my ID and my story. It really didn't take that long, but I was feeling rattled. People really need to not have spectacular car accidents in front of me, that's all I'm saying.
Then, today, I pop outside to get my newspaper and THERE IS NO NEWSPAPER. Now, I understand that sometimes stuff happens. I always call the Times so I get credited, but it's not a huge deal. However, it's started happening at least once a week. I smelled a rat. I walked aroud the back on my way to work and peered into the recycling bin, and sure enough, there was my paper. It had clearly been read, and then chucked in there. How do I know it was my paper?
Now, I know that's circumstantial, but come on. So what do I do? I don't want to be passive-agressive about it, but this has to stop. It's stealing! Co-worker Craig suggested I knock on doors, since there are only three of them (I will ignore the rest of his advice, about brass knuckles and thinly veiled death threats). Any thoughts, Internets?
I pulled into the Villa Riviera's driveway without thinking, really, and ran over to check on things. A man standing next to an SUV was calling the police, and the drivers were standing next to their cars, looking dazed. (Actually, the guy who did the illegal turning looked drunk, but I'm not the police.) But then ... what to do? I was right there when it happened, so I should tell the police or something, right? Where is my mom when I need her? A woman ran up and asked if everyone was alright, and I said that they looked okay. I figured she was the closest thing to a grown-up I was likely to find, so I asked her whether she thought I should stay or go. "Oh, you should talk to them," she said. "I'll wait here with you."
The police showed up with lightning speed, which I was a little startled by. I guess when it's a big accident in a major intersection, they pick up their normal glacial pace a bit. I tiptoed over and looked involved, and finally an officer came over to talk to me. I waved goodbye to the nice lady (never did find out what her name was) and gave the officer my ID and my story. It really didn't take that long, but I was feeling rattled. People really need to not have spectacular car accidents in front of me, that's all I'm saying.
Then, today, I pop outside to get my newspaper and THERE IS NO NEWSPAPER. Now, I understand that sometimes stuff happens. I always call the Times so I get credited, but it's not a huge deal. However, it's started happening at least once a week. I smelled a rat. I walked aroud the back on my way to work and peered into the recycling bin, and sure enough, there was my paper. It had clearly been read, and then chucked in there. How do I know it was my paper?
- It was from today.
- This has been happening a lot lately.
- Nobody else in my building gets the paper.
Now, I know that's circumstantial, but come on. So what do I do? I don't want to be passive-agressive about it, but this has to stop. It's stealing! Co-worker Craig suggested I knock on doors, since there are only three of them (I will ignore the rest of his advice, about brass knuckles and thinly veiled death threats). Any thoughts, Internets?
Labels: things happen to me
