Yes, Tuesday September 8, 2009 was an eventful day. After hearing this story, one of my friends said that my Jeep has nine lives. This is true. Everything that has happened to it could fill a blog all by itself. This blog entry itself will be long, nevertheless, let's begin here...
That Tuesday was kind of a long day. I was picking up a friend and his family from the airport that night around 7:00 p.m. This alone required me to take a bus across town, pick up my buddy's truck, drive it to my place, and then later that night pick him up from the airport. So far so good. I got back home around 2:00 p.m. with the truck, when I made the turn in front of my apartment building, pass my parked Jeep. This is the last time I saw the Jeep before 'the incident'.
I went ahead and picked up my buddy, and he dropped me off back home around 7:30. The problem is that when he dropped me off, he parked exactly where I thought I had parked the Jeep. Something didn't seem right. I didn't say anything, but once he had left I stood on the sidewalk wondering if I was imagining things. Isn't this where I had parked the Jeep? Had I moved it? Was it parked somewhere else? It didn't take very long for the truth to hit me...
The Jeep was gone!!! Poof! Vanished! Just like that!
I went into my apartment, called the police, and about an hour later gave the details to a police officer. When we were wrapping up I asked Officer Fox (real name) if I'd ever see the Jeep again. He said, maybe, sometimes they show up about an hour later, sometimes they are gone forever. At this point, you (the reader) should recognize this as foreshadowing.
Throughout this time I was surprisingly calm, with the sinking suspicion that a nervous breakdown was only moments away. Anyway, at precisely 9:55 p.m. I got a call from the Bernalillo County Sherriff's Department. Did you report your car stolen? Yes. Well, we have it, along with the person who stole it, can you come over and pick it up? Well, no, but in a flash Officer Fox was there to pick me up and take me to the scene of the crime.
Apparently a heroin addict had stolen my Jeep and went on a crime spree in southern Albuquerque. Picture the scene - it's about 10:00 p.m., it's dark, the Jeep is in the middle of the road, traffic is being diverted, and no less than five police cars with their lights on have surrounded it. The 'suspect' is being handcuffed a few feet away.
The police are trying to figure out things. Sir, did you have anything in the car when it was stolen? No, the Jeep has an open top, so I don't keep anything in it. Are you sure? Well, no, not really, but I'm pretty sure. The police go off and huddle.
Then they return. Now, you gotta picture it, the police officers are big dudes, like football players. And they have these deep voices. So when they come over to talk to me, they make quite an impression. Sir, did you have a jack in your car. Yes, a small jack (I indicate how small with my hands), it fits under the car seat. So you didn't have a big jack, a highboy? No, I had a small jack (again, hand gestures). The police are puzzled, and so am I. Do they want me to jack up the Jeep? It sounds to me that they want me to jack up the Jeep, all four tires off the ground, but my little jack barely lifts one tire off the ground. How am I going to do this?
Eventually they let me go to the Jeep. A police officer points to something on the back seat. Sir, does this belong to you? No, none of this is mine. I am astonished. The Jeep is full of stolen stuff. There is so much in it, it looks like it was going to start falling off the open sides of the Jeep. Then I realize what all the car jack confusion was about - resting on the back seat is an industrial size jack that is as long as the Jeep is wide. It is huge. Each of the five cops is fantasizing about it in their garage. But, alas, it is evidence.
Anyway, the police collect some evidence and release the Jeep and the rest of the loot to me. In it there was a hospital robe, an IV kit, two pocket knives, a Leatherman, a tape measure, and some other stuff I can't remember (but I have at home). There was even a bag of Wendy's and some fries on the passenger side. Yes, at some point, the thief had gotten some food at the drive through.
The last and perhaps strangest element of this story is that the car thief/heroin addict did not hot wire the Jeep. He had a key. Everyone - the police and myself - were puzzled. I have my theories about this, but will leave it at that.
That Tuesday was kind of a long day. I was picking up a friend and his family from the airport that night around 7:00 p.m. This alone required me to take a bus across town, pick up my buddy's truck, drive it to my place, and then later that night pick him up from the airport. So far so good. I got back home around 2:00 p.m. with the truck, when I made the turn in front of my apartment building, pass my parked Jeep. This is the last time I saw the Jeep before 'the incident'.
I went ahead and picked up my buddy, and he dropped me off back home around 7:30. The problem is that when he dropped me off, he parked exactly where I thought I had parked the Jeep. Something didn't seem right. I didn't say anything, but once he had left I stood on the sidewalk wondering if I was imagining things. Isn't this where I had parked the Jeep? Had I moved it? Was it parked somewhere else? It didn't take very long for the truth to hit me...
The Jeep was gone!!! Poof! Vanished! Just like that!
I went into my apartment, called the police, and about an hour later gave the details to a police officer. When we were wrapping up I asked Officer Fox (real name) if I'd ever see the Jeep again. He said, maybe, sometimes they show up about an hour later, sometimes they are gone forever. At this point, you (the reader) should recognize this as foreshadowing.
Throughout this time I was surprisingly calm, with the sinking suspicion that a nervous breakdown was only moments away. Anyway, at precisely 9:55 p.m. I got a call from the Bernalillo County Sherriff's Department. Did you report your car stolen? Yes. Well, we have it, along with the person who stole it, can you come over and pick it up? Well, no, but in a flash Officer Fox was there to pick me up and take me to the scene of the crime.
Apparently a heroin addict had stolen my Jeep and went on a crime spree in southern Albuquerque. Picture the scene - it's about 10:00 p.m., it's dark, the Jeep is in the middle of the road, traffic is being diverted, and no less than five police cars with their lights on have surrounded it. The 'suspect' is being handcuffed a few feet away.
The police are trying to figure out things. Sir, did you have anything in the car when it was stolen? No, the Jeep has an open top, so I don't keep anything in it. Are you sure? Well, no, not really, but I'm pretty sure. The police go off and huddle.
Then they return. Now, you gotta picture it, the police officers are big dudes, like football players. And they have these deep voices. So when they come over to talk to me, they make quite an impression. Sir, did you have a jack in your car. Yes, a small jack (I indicate how small with my hands), it fits under the car seat. So you didn't have a big jack, a highboy? No, I had a small jack (again, hand gestures). The police are puzzled, and so am I. Do they want me to jack up the Jeep? It sounds to me that they want me to jack up the Jeep, all four tires off the ground, but my little jack barely lifts one tire off the ground. How am I going to do this?
Eventually they let me go to the Jeep. A police officer points to something on the back seat. Sir, does this belong to you? No, none of this is mine. I am astonished. The Jeep is full of stolen stuff. There is so much in it, it looks like it was going to start falling off the open sides of the Jeep. Then I realize what all the car jack confusion was about - resting on the back seat is an industrial size jack that is as long as the Jeep is wide. It is huge. Each of the five cops is fantasizing about it in their garage. But, alas, it is evidence.
Anyway, the police collect some evidence and release the Jeep and the rest of the loot to me. In it there was a hospital robe, an IV kit, two pocket knives, a Leatherman, a tape measure, and some other stuff I can't remember (but I have at home). There was even a bag of Wendy's and some fries on the passenger side. Yes, at some point, the thief had gotten some food at the drive through.
The last and perhaps strangest element of this story is that the car thief/heroin addict did not hot wire the Jeep. He had a key. Everyone - the police and myself - were puzzled. I have my theories about this, but will leave it at that.
