GTA 2: Minneapolis!

This weekend has been shit.  I went from having a car, checks, and a safe house, to having a bike, no car, a new bank account, because of not having checks, and police reports I will have to live with for years.

Minneapolis has stolen most of my valuable stuff and most of the stuff I hardly consider valuable, but stuff I need to make my life easier.  I dislike the crack-heads that reside in my building.  If this isn’t enough to get a gun over and kill some people for I don’t know what is.  The police seem to be helpless, or rather they are less than helpful.  I…

Okay, so before I start bitching about my situations, (You Know?) the one where I got all my checks, house, and car stolen last weekend, I will let you know that I wasn’t really upset about it.  I didn’t think it was a big deal to have most of my material possessions stolen.  As it may have been an April Fool’s joke, which it wasn’t, I assumed the position of the victim rather than the fool.  My mother told me to find the person who stole my checks.  I mean, I have his name and I know where he lives.  I believe that I could very well find him and possibly beat him with a baseball bat, but I choose not to.  I figure the cops will find him if that is what is supposed to happen.

The thing that did upset me the most probably was that I think people have been watching my apartment, and my every move.  On one hand, I would love to be a celebrity and have people following me for autographs or just out of curiosity.  On the other hand I would rather not be followed or asked for an autograph by crackheads that live up stairs and steal my property.  I figure they will die a slow and typical death, of crack heads that is.  I assume they have horrible teeth, no money, no family, and one ambition:  To get crack and do it, and then get more crack and do it.

This week after my car got stolen, right after my house got robbed, I decided to live my life differently.  I was actually forced to do things differently.  In order for me to get to my job, my girlfriend’s house, or anywhere I had to plan out my trip well in advance and stick to the plan.  When you have a car you don’t have to plan shit out.  For 5 days I was without vehicle.  I helped the planet with less emissions, I took the bus and felt the hardships of people who do that everyday.  The bus was actually fun.  I got to listen to music and ride without worrying about getting into a car accident, or drinking and driving.

Getting to work was a little different though.  Why would I want to pay money to go to a place I hated?  I needed money.  I found that the people I work with and even my friends wanted me to work.  People were literally picking me up and driving me to work.  I have no idea why anyone would have wanted me to get to work.  I feel they may have done it because they did not want me to get fired, because I hate work so much I would have rather sat in bed and thought about how they would fire me.  Maybe they would fire me for being late because my car was stolen when I went out to it before work.  Maybe they would never fire me and I would work in a grocery store for the rest of my life.  There are good things about it but there are things that make getting up and dressed to go to work feel like you are putting on a noose while you are standing on a box.  I lose some of my passion for life at this place.  The people are nice and they appear friendly when they feel you have had enough.  Maybe I have.

I found out my car had been recovered while I was at work on Thursday, obviating any more of my friends the hassle of picking me up.  My friend Aaron drove me and he was a champ about it.  He didn’t bitch once when the assholes at the impound lot played tough with me about the cash, or when he drove me to numerous spots trying to find a bank to withdraw money.  I got my car back.

The condition was sort of how I left it just add broken crack pipes, brillo pads, burn-holes, other stone property from other people, a bed spread, and some basketball shoes.  They took my cd player out too, so now my car is actually faster because it weighs less.  I am impressed.  They even left the key they used to steal my care, a spare from my bedroom, classy.  I immediately drove to a gas station because they drove a full tank of gas into the ground, thanks.  I filled my tank halfway and cleaned the broken pipes, crack, and evidence of other robberies out of my car into the trash bin at Holiday.  I felt like people were about to call the cops, but fuck it I got my car back and I have no worries.

When I drive now I can hear my car and it talks to me.  My car is more of my car now than it ever was.  I respect it.  I no longer have to take the bus; however, I might because it was an eye opening experience and effective.  I love my car, but I won’t cry if it gets stolen again.  I am sure someone needed it more than I did that night, because I wasn’t looking for crack.  I will never be surprised again.

When I walked up and saw my car was missing I lit a cigarette, smoked it, then I called the cops.  I am more interested in ruining my lungs than finding my car.  I think material possessions do not define you as a person.  The person you are and your investment in material possessions define you as a person.  I could care less, but I learned.


About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks:
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