Bits and Pieces

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

I Can't Believe It

While I was out doing an honest day's work today, some fucking layabout scummy jobless bastard broke into my car and stole the CD player. Who the fuck would do a thing like that? He'd pried the front passenger door lock open with a screwdriver. This little bastard went out this morning with a screwdriver in his pocket and went looking for cars to break into, and chose mine.

It's not even a very good CD player. He won't fetch more than a few quid for it - but I can't afford to buy a new one. That's fucking ruined my whole day.

You know what's worse? My insurance policy has a £100 fucking excess for fire and theft, and if I did decide to make a claim my premiums would go up by £100 next year. Shit.

It doesn't feel real to me. I've never been a victim of crime before - not because of any great effort on my part to avoid it - just dumb luck, I guess. It's never been a part of my life. I live, thanks to the hard work of my parents, in a nice area almost entirely free of crime - or, at least, of the crime that comes onto the street. Who knows what goes on behind these respectable middle class doors?

I suppose due to the fact that I've never been exposed to crime I don't understand how a human being could break into a car and steal my property. It goes so far beyond my boundaries that I just can't get my head round it. Probably they settle whatever pangs of guilt enter their reptilian brains by believing that the insurance company will pick up the tab. 'Hell, I'm not hurting anyone but the insurance carriers, and they deserve to get robbed.'

But that isn't the case. If, by some outlandish coincidence the guy who did it is reading this, remember that my insurance doesn't cover it. My insurance won't cover the cost of fixing the lock on the passenger door. It won't cover the cost of replacing the CD player. It won't cover the fact that from now on I'll return to my car everytime wondering whether it's happened again. It won't cover my fear. It won't cover my anger. It won't cover this feeling that maybe I place just a little too much faith in the goodness of people.

And for what? A few quid for a beat up, second hand CD player. Bravo. What a testament to humanity you are, you fucking mutant.
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