Nicki, Jason and I are at a play last night (Jason came for the boobies). It's a three-hour emotional marathon. When I get out of the theater and notice three missed calls--one from my father--I start to sweat. A cell phone call from my father is an emergency notification. Or I'm in trouble. An emergency notification that I am in trouble.
As I'm speaking to him, he's got the Minneapolis police on the house phone line. They've found my car in an "unlikely" spot and they think it may have been stolen. It hasn't. I'm looking at it, and I'm looking at them with their bright lights facing me as I cross the street. They're smiling when I arrive, and they've got my photo up on the info screen. I say something like, "Who's that fox?" They point to a sign that says "no parking zone" and something about violators being towed. I point to a bigger, yellow sign that advertises this as a parking lot for the theater. A conundrum. "Miss, a lot of shady activity has occurred" in the time they've waited for me to show up. I'm parked "two blocks from the epicenter of crime in the 5th precinct." There have been "34 aggravated robberies and assaults already this month." People will "break a window for the quarters and dimes in your console. Let alone the bag* in your backseat."
Before they found me, they sent a car to do an apartment courtesy check, likely ringing the broken doorbell at my apartment. They urgently called my parents; left messages on my personal cell phone. And I think to myself, If I weren't a white girl with a car registered to a wealthy neighborhood address, would anyone even bother with all this? Probably not. They would have towed the car.
Well, I was thinking that and, How will I blog this?
*Full of church papers and a Bible. Which would have been so disappointing to a robber, unless they were searching for a free Catholic Study Bible and some discussion guides.
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1 comment:
The Good Officer was also kind enough to give us an explanation of agrivated assault that included "pistol whipping" as an example. Thank goodness Katy's driver's license picture is so cute and that her car isn't registered to a North Minneapolis address or apparently our evening could have ended with a Bible theft and pistol whipping, yikes!
Katy, does this experience hurt or enhance the young urban chic lifestyle we're going for?
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