May 17, 2013

Exceeding the Limits

It has been an all-around shit week. My wife is convinced she wants to explore the world in a motorhome. You probably already how I feel about 4-wheel anything and this "plan" smells like something that will put me behind the wheel of a cursed cage for extended periods of time with no upsides in sight. Being the passive-aggressive Midwesterner I am, I found a pretty good deal on a motorhome I can probably tolerate and bought the damn thing, driving it home 1800 miles from near Portland in a couple of days (and nights).

Arriving pissed off and disoriented, I went back to what passes for my "life" Tuesday and promptly had my billfold stolen during a physical therapy session at the Roseville Community Center, The asshole smacked my MasterLock, cracking the hasp and made off with my identity, a couple hundred bucks of travel money left over from the trip, and a couple of credit cards. So far, he's racked up $2400 in idiotic charges and proved that the world of credit is populated with moronic vendors and a lot of stupid bankers. Being as true as possible to stereotypes, the jackass went first to some place called "Hat World," followed by Footlocker, "SQ Dionte Tinkel, OFG Wireless (bought a disposable phone), and to the Roseville Apple Store (twice) for iPads. If the Roseville Police can't find this douchebag, having been photographed in high-resolution by the Apple Store and in pretty good resolution leaving the community center, they should close up shop and quit wasting taxpayer money. I'll put my money on the Roseville cops being far too lethargic to find their own shoes in the morning, let alone a thief who might actually move faster than 2mph.

I know better than to bring valuables into the locker room, but you're damned if you do and damned if you don't. Leave them in the car and any idiot with a Slim Jim gets your stuff. Take the stuff into the gym locker room and they bust the lock and are off and spending money like a Kardasian with an unlimited credit card. Carry the stuff into the gym and they have all sorts of opportunities to grab your stuff while you exercise. The only solution is to avoid going anywhere. The world is obviously full of useless, bored young men and the next douchebag who whines to me about abortion might get a late term look at the procedure himself.

The lost week hasn't ended yet.

I made an errand ride to the library, returning a couple of books, getting caught in a rainstorm, and managing no to fasten my tailbag solidly to the rack, and losting the damn thing somewhere between the library and a drug store. This is the second small MotoFizz bag I've managed to "lose," the first one was stolen from the bike when I made a quick trip into work to grab some test papers about two years ago. This one, I tossed myself. Stupidly, on the way there I thought "I ought to write my name on this damn bag."

I'm sitting in the sun porch, feeling sorry for myself. Clearly, Alzheimer's has claimed what's left of my tiny brain. It's probably time to make that walk into the forest and hope for a large predator to make a quick, clean kill.

POSTSCRIPT: Someone incredibly helpful found the bag in front of his house, called my work number (business cards were in the bag) and left it on his porch where I could find it last night. Incredibly, the MotoFizz stayed on the WR's tailrack for 2.2 miles of moderate traffic maneuvering. I missed finding it myself because I turned a couple of blocks too early on the return trip to the library and the good Samaritan had already found it by the time I made the return pass. So, now I can go the the Alzehimer's clinic knowing, for a few moments, where some of my stuff is.

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