All Within Two Hours
This has not been a good week. It’s been so bad, in fact, that it’ll require at least two posts to categorize the events logically, although there is some correlation among the events.
Not too long ago, I told you about how TextStyle1 shat the bed. When that happened, I told you that I wasn’t “going to run off this weekend and replace it.” Plus, given that it has been very stable since its recovery from its Windows Blue Screen of Death, I was still only toying with the idea of a replacement. But then about two weeks ago, I noticed that both TextStyle1’s CD drives were on the fritz, and then something happened at work this week — more in the next post — that brought me to decide to take the plunge soon. I reasoned that it would be better to start weening off TextStyle1 and gradually migrate it to a “TextStyle1B” well before TextStyle1 reached its last lag.
BeeGoddessM and Stephanie invited me over for supper tonight, and because of the crap that I’ll talk about in the next post, I suggested that we go to FutureShop so that I could get a new computer. They agreed and we went in their new car. I ended up walking out of the store with a computer that was $200 more than I had planned because the one I was eyeing was out of stock, but “What the heck!” I rationalized. “This one is much better, and I might as well buy it while I can afford to.” I also got a switch so that TextStyle2 and TextStyle1B could share the same monitor, as well as another wireless networking card.
We got back to BeeGoddessM and Stephanie’s, and because I still have two winter tires in the trunk, I threw the box with the computer on the back seat. I wanted to see Mister Boy-Boy Himself (a.k.a. Jackson) before heading home, and frankly I didn’t think much of the box since there’s next to no traffic in that neighbourhood, although I can see all of you shaking your head as you tell me that’s worse than a super-busy neighbourhood. Be that as it is, though, 20 minutes later, I was back by Junior’s side.
And, yes, you’ve guessed it already.
I could swear that Junior was a shade redder than usual because he thought I would be angry: the poor thing thought I’d be mad at him because he wasn’t able to defend himself when some thief(s) came along and busted his driver’s side rear window in order to grab the loot. But all I could do at that point was to stand there like an idiot. “Fucking great,” I thought to myself. “When all of this is done and over with, that’ll be $2,000 in the toilet.”
I returned to BGM & Steph’s to tell them what had happened, and immediately BGM called the police. My report is filed; I even have a file number for insurance purposes. While the officer who took my report didn’t disagree that this had not been my best idea, he very quickly added, “‘Tis the season, though.” What happened to me in a nearly deserted neighbourhood happens all the time in busy mall parking lots at this time of year. But perhaps what is the most disturbing about what happened is that, judging by Junior’s injuries, there are people walking the streets of Halifax with freakin’ crowbars, always ready to jump on someone’s admittedly very stupid but momentary lapse of judgement.
I’m completely pissed off, but there are a few bright sides, or as my mother would say, “I was lucky in my stroke of bad luck.” The best part is that I had put the receipt in my wallet rather than in the bag of accessories, which was also taken. As a result, I could tell the police that the stuff was purchased at 9:04; the incident took place between 9:40 and 10:00; I had the serial number of all the material I purchased right on the receipt, and by 11:05, my insurance company also had my report on file. And let’s not forget I can afford good insurance, which I haven’t used in more than 15 years.
Of course, at 9:04 when I was signing the VISA slip at FutureShop, I didn’t think I would be where I ended up by 11:05. It stinks, and I didn’t get the benefit of a Friday night Good Samaritan. Despite that, I can see so many ways in which it could have been worse, and because this situation stinks so much, it only strengthens my resolve to do the right thing again should I witness it happening to someone else.