Keyed

I have a few cousins whom are pretty cool. I won't mention names, as I do not want anyone's ego to take a hit. Out of the few, there are a couple who are pretty talented when it comes to athletics (I hear one is now a decent mechanic too, but I digress) and are worth watching when they play. I enjoy receiving the occasional invite to watch these lads show their stuff and make an effort to be present at games when I can.

One of my cousins is currently on an All Star team in baseball. From what I understand, being picked for such a team indicates that one has a fair mount of skill. If I recall correctly, I think this his third year as an All Star or perhaps his second. In the past, the All Star games were exciting -- a little more intense and fast-paced than the typical baseball season. Therefore, when I received an e-mail last week announcing that the first big game of the All Star season was to take place this past Sunday, I was psyched. I marked it on my calendar and made note to myself that I should make a sign or remember to wear the team's colors as I attended the game.

Unfortunately, over the weekend, I got sick. I am not sure what was wrong with me. My first thought was food poisioning. When my symptoms did not subside quickly, I thought pregnancy. When the little test said negative, I thought clearly I have some weird disease that has too many syllables for me to pronounce correctly. Either that, or a weird parasite took over my body. Needless to say, I was not up for the game on Sunday. I could not stay awake for more than an hour or two, let alone get up, shower, AND drive to a ball park to watch a game.

It turns out that my cousin's team won that game even without my support. I heard through the grapevine that he, in particular, pretty much rocked in the game making a catch that displayed skill only matched by great baseball legends (or at least that is how I chose to hear it). With the victory, came a second tournament match on Monday night. Monday afternoon, I decided to go to work for a few hours and if I had enough energy, I would go to the game as well.

I am pleased to report that I felt great on Monday- although a little fatigued. I made my way south to the ballpark, found a parking spot, and located my cousin's fans. The first few innings were awesome. The men on the team hit well and made some fantastic plays when they were in the outfield. As I suspected it would be, the game was a treat to watch.

Despite my enthusiasm, all of the sudden I felt less than healthy. I felt tired and decided I should return home before I was too tired to drive. I said my goodbyes and retreated down the trail to my car. To my surprise, there was quite a scene in the parking lot. It consisted of a man yelling some sort of gibberish at a young boy, a crowd of onlookers, and a couple of cop cars whom just happened to be blocking my car, in particular, which I could not see completely. I thought, "Crap. I bet that little guy stole his dad's keys or something and plowed a car into mine".

I made eye contact with a woman and asked what happened. She indicated that a bunch of the cars in the lot were keyed.
Once I actually looked around me, I found the woman's statement to be correct. It seemed that almost all of the cars were vandalized. Some had only one scratch. Some looked as if a toddler colored on the side of the car with a key. Some had only one panel ruined while others had the hoods, roofs, and trunk lids scarred.

I approached my car and gave it a brief inspection. I saw that the perpetraters of the crime were kind enough to include me on their little property destruction spree. Yay for me! A new experience! On my hood just above my left fender the word 'BLOOD' was etched...through the clearcoat and past the paint. Overall, I really wasn't upset about the car, but more irritated by the fact that I was tired and wanted to go home, but had to stay and deal with the situation. In all honesty, compared to the other cars in the lot, my car was hardly damaged. Furthermore, at least I had a cool word in my paint. Not everyone could claim the same.

After getting my case number, I returned to the ball park to watch more of the game, as it was clear to me that I was not going anywhere any time soon. I grumbled about the situation to my cousin and aunt for a moment and then was over it. A few minutes later, I started feeling better again and then really did not care. Afterall, as twisted as this may sound, if I am going to be a victim of a crime, I rather it be something like this rather than an assault or a similar situation where my personal safety is compromised. At one point, I told my aunt that I thought I would just embrace the new tattoo on my automobile -- kind of like the car was pimped out or something. She made the fantastic suggestion that I may want to consdier adding rhinestones to where the word was carved to add some bling and make the "pimpin" thing seem more authentic. How bad-ass would that be?

Needless to say, J did not exactly embrace that idea. Where I tend to view the vehicle as only a material possession, which is a hunk of metal designed to transport me from point A to point B, J sees it as something we have worked hard to afford and need to maintain. Therefore, I was not surprised at all this morning when the first thing he did was call our insurance agent to see if the damage would be covered under our policy. Nor was I surpised when he said we would take it in this afternoon to get an estimate.

Turns out that our policy does cover the damage with a $100 deductible. I know, what an expensive (but well worth it) baseball game! We will get the $100 back if the insurance company recoops the money from the suspects -- oh, who by the way, are ages 12 and 13, so I am pretty much not holding my breath, but am more concerned with their lack of respect for others' property and the seemingly lack of presence of proper discipline and parenting in their lives (yadda...yadda...yadda...insert S's anaylses of Erikson's stages, Ainsworth's parenting styles, and Kohlberg's Stages of Moral Development here...yadda...yadda...I need to stop thinking so much).

The guy at the body shop reports that the average cost of an entire paint job falls somewhere between $5000-$8000 these days. I am happy to report I only need to have a portion of the hood and fender re-done. The officer last night indicated the boys hit about 30 cars. Do the math....that is a lot of dough.....

As if the story were not special enough, there was an added twist, which would only occur in my life. On the way to get our estimate this morning, we ran over a screw in the road and got a flat tire....

I told J we should have just "owned" the 'BLOOD' on the car....In my opinion, which means nothing, the flat tire was the universe's way of telling us that we just need to relax... :)