It happened again. A-fucking-gain.

I saw the trunk of my car wide open as I walked towards it. The small rear window was smashed. Shards of glass glittered in the back seat. Maps and other contents of my glove compartment decorated the front seats.

I looked in my trunk. It was stark empty. Hollow.

My emergency roadside kit that my Dad gave me for Christmas was gone. My set of auto mechanic tools was gone. My spare motor oil and breaking fluid was gone. My spare sweatshirt and fleece jacket was gone.

I couldn't understand it. My car was right in front of the well-light entrance of an apartment complex. This was a busy street. I only parked here one night. How the fuck could this happen?

How the fuck could this happen again?

The first time was on another street; a little more deserted and quiet street.

I didn't think it was dangerous because I live in a fairly well-to-do yuppie part of town. Unfortunately, I'm near the border of a touristy part of town. Which means wandering out-of-towners sometimes get fiercely curious about the contents of one's car, apparently. Bastards.

At least the first guy didn't break anything. I could see his big palm print on my window. He must have simply pushed my window down or used a Slim Jim or something. All he took was some spare change and my sunglasses.

The second time was on that same street. I hadn't learned my lesson yet.

The small rear window was smashed. Another set of sunglasses was stolen, along with a set of auto mechanic tools, spare motor oil and breaking fluid. The thieves didn't touch my emergency roadside kit or spare jackets, fortunately.

It cost me a nice chunk of money to get that damn window fixed though.

This time, it'll cost more than a nice chunk of money. Now I'm paranoid about leaving things in the car. My trunk has been bare since the break in and I'm afraid to put what I used to believe were essentials in there, like tools and spare motor oil.

It's not the loss of my belongings that really pisses me off. It's that my car was broken into while parked in a well-lit, busy street in my yuppie neighborhood. It's the loss of security I feel when I park my car on any street now that really pisses me off.

Sigh. I can't believe it happened again.

. . .

Has your car ever been broken into?