I’d only driven my car in the dark since it had been to the garage last week.
Until yesterday.
At half past eleven I got in and saw a black hole in the dashboard.
Huh?
Uh, yes. For real.
Right where the radio was supposed to be.
Obviously I started a search for it, although that was a bit pointless. A radio doesn’t exactly fit under your seat or anything.
And the faceplate had vanished from the glove compartment too
The doors had been locked the whole time.
Yes, the whole time. I pay attention to those kind of things, these days.
And there wasn’t a single visible sign of a break-in.
Had My Love wanted my radio in his car for a bit or something?
My Love knew nothing of the sort.
Had the guys at the garage needed to get in behind that hole and forgotten to put the radio back?
The guys at the garage knew nothing about it either
But they did nearly piss themselves laughing when I told them the story.
Stolen, then.
Apparently.
By someone.
Somewhere.
Sometime last week.
And because the head honcho at the garage felt really, really sorry for me, and apparently comes across the odd car radio here and there, he told me to give him a call next week and drop by when they’ve got one for me.
And while I have a cup of coffee with them and they can take the piss out of me properly, they’ll just pop it right in for me.
Super sweet
Did I mention that last week I left my keychain on their counter and that night, thirty kilometres away, I couldn’t get into my house?
No?
Well.
That’s the sort of thing they find funny.
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