[Warning: Grown-up language ahead. Click away now if you have a weak constitution for that sort of thing.]
This is what some asshole son-of-a-bitch did to the ragtop of my Mustang on Friday night. From the placement and size of the cuts — near the edge of the top, and right over the door-lock post and the door handle itself — my guess is that someone was attempting to break in, rather than merely vandalizing the car. Not that I’d know anything about how to vandalize a car, since it was drilled into my head from an early age to actually respect other people’s property, but it seems to me if the goal had been merely to ruin somebody’s day, the bastard would’ve carved a big X right down the middle or something. But as I said, I don’t know what could be running through the mind of someone who’d do this to another person’s car.
Needless to say, I’ve had a pretty crappy weekend, alternating between surges of impotent rage and a crushing sense of violation and generalized despair. I tell you guys… between losing Rusty, various work-related issues that I’m sure no one would be interested in, some personal stuff I’d rather not share, and now this, I’m feeling completely and utterly defeated right now. I know it’s a cliche for old farts to bitch about how the world has gone to hell since they were kids, but, well, it has…
“Hell is other people”
My sympathies, for the car and especially for Rusty.
Thanks, Karen. The good wishes mean a lot right now…
Ugh, that stinks! I just don’t understand some people’s disregard for other people’s property. >:(
I don’t get it either… I’m still angry. I hadn’t left anything on the seats or otherwise visible, so my guess is they either were going to rifle the glove box and see what they could find, or they were going to boost the car itself. I suppose I ought to consider myself lucky they couldn’t get in…
Sorry, man. I hope the insurance covers the cost. The sense of violation is priceless.
When I was 18, I woke up one morning to find that some troglodyte had keyed a couple dozen swastikas into my Trans Am. The fucker was either a bad Hindu or a stupid Nazi; the swastikas went the wrong way. Anyway, it took me months to get over the anger.
When you think about it, though, there’s something bizarre about spending tens of thousands of dollar on something and leaving it sitting out in the open, vulnerable to idiots and other forces of nature. There’s nothing else in life where we do this, is there?
No, I suppose there’s not, unless you count a house. Vandals can do a number on those, too, and weather is an obvious issue for a building.
I liked your quip about bad Hindus and stupid Nazis… a little gallows humor is just what I needed…