Someone tried, I think, to hotwire my car. This past Monday night. I only realized yesterday, well, because I was just in my car yesterday, and there was this pair of willy nilly needle nose pliers just laying there on the floor beneath my floor mat.
Now, I don't normally carry around a pair of needle nose pliers. And, let me tell 'ya, I don't just have them hanging hither nither in my BMW. No-sir-ee. The BMW has its own little tool kit right in the trunk with everything you should need for the roadside emergency. I am not missing a pair of worn-out, chipped-red-paint needle nose pliers from there.
So, it was odd to find these needle noses pliers peeking up on the floor. I thought to my self: "what the fuh...?!" Rewind.
I remembered Monday night. Monday night I had an evening meeting in the Old Neighborhood, the Haight Ashbury. I parked my car; I was early. I decided to visit a couple old haunts. I rumbled the streets. Then finally the hour of my appointment showed up, and I went into said appointment and had a grand olde time with some grande olde folkes with some good 'ole wine for the next two hours. Some colleagues and I walked me to My Desdemona afterward, my tragically beautifully ancient BMW parked on the street.
Whoops. In my excitement for the monthly meeting, I had neglected to lock the car. Initial review: all intact (only retards leave shit in their cars in SF). Phew. Get in, belt up. Roll.
And then yesterday I got in My Desi to go to work, and lo and behold! A booby prize: not new at all needle nose pliers. Cool. Fucked up, but cool. Must have been that someone that Monday night in the Haight Ash tested the doors and found them open. Popped in - BUT! Hold on there Fellow! Everyone sees you and YOU - quite honestly - do not own a Beemer. So, get scared you bastard and run, run! Run! That's right. My Desdemona is not a tragedy for your gain. Bi-atch. And now I have your tool, Tool.