I dreamt that I awoke to start my morning routine and found that my stainless steel refrigerator had been stolen. And as if that weren’t bad enough, the thieves had torn up my floor dragging the thing out and replaced it with a cheap chipboard cupboard that looked like it had been found at the local Dollar Store. I followed the torn up floor into the garage, where I found the garage door standing wide open, and worse–my car in pieces!
The thieves had taken my poor Honda for a joy ride, demolished it beyond recognition, but kindly returned it to the garage. I panicked that my wallet had been inside the car, but kind scoundrels as they were, it had been left untouched.
I hurried inside to call the police. But I couldn’t find my cell phone! Those damned thieves had stolen my rotary dial cell phone (remember, kids, this was a dream) and replaced it with a Blackberry that kept trying to send emails as I tried to call 911.
I gave up and rushed outside to find help. But my father and the fire department were already in the driveway.
“Dad, let me use your phone to call the police!” I yelled.
“Well, the fire department is here to take the Honda away, they said it was a fire hazard.”
“The fire department isn’t going to be looking for the people who did this! Give me your phone!”
“Oh…” he paused, “I thought YOU wrecked it.” Given my history as a young driver, it was probably a safe assumption for him to have made, but I was annoyed nonetheless. It was then that I noticed that the Volkswagen was gone! It had been there moments earlier when I had went inside for the phone.
“They got the other car too!” I said, “They can’t have gotten far, it was just here a minute ago!”
The police arrived finally…and seemed as concerned about my stolen cars and appliances as if I had called them to report a stolen newspaper.
“Do you want the license plate number?” I asked, thinking that might help them find the still-missing Volkswagen.
“No that won’t be necessary.” the officer said, with a look that suggested it was the stupidest idea he had ever heard.
I led the officers out through the garage, and when I opened the door–there sat the demolished Volkswagen–kindly returned as the Honda had been by the thieves.
“Ahh…there it is!” the officer said. “Case closed on this one.”
“WHAT??” I screamed, “They can’t have even gotten off the street!! Aren’t you going to find them?”
“Well, we can’t charge ’em with theft, they brought it back.”
“What about the fridge? Or destruction of property?” I wondered.
“Calm down now. We wouldn’t be able to prove they took the fridge too. And for all we know, this is what these cars looked like before. Now, I’ll get the fire department out here again–that car is dangerous and could send the whole place up in flames.” And they were off…having been no help at all, and I was left without a fridge and with two cars demolished.
I woke up in a sweat–pissed at the police, ready for vigilante justice, and wondering where I would come up with the deductible for two cars and a homeowner’s claim. I realized it had all been a dream, but I headed downstairs to make sure.