recovered!

Our car was found!

It was around 7 pm on Friday night that we got a call from the Shreveport Police Department. Mama had a few hours before she had to get to work, and the woman who called said that the police officer told her it appeared to be drivable, so we set out to get our Blazer back. I didn't even bother to change out of my pajamas.

We got to the location that we were given directions to, and were kinda surprised to find that it was parked in a small field of some kind in the middle of a slightly rundown neighborhood.

The police car was parked on the street and an extremely cute cop was taking fingerprints from our vehicle. The steering column was ripped up since the thieves used a screwdriver to start the car, which was classy of them. *snicker* The glovebox was also ripped out, but I suppose this was because it was locked. Perhaps they thought it might hold treasure of some sort, such as a gun or money or something.

Alas, we shall never know what was in the glovebox because we could never get it open. Cute Cop, named Brian Michael, was wearing very professional looking rubber gloves while taking the fingerprints and using that nifty fingerprint powder stuff.

I was impressed because on shows like CSI and Law & Order the cops are always touching things and getting their fingerprints all over it. He said most cops don't use the gloves. He did, though, and this was endearing. He also had a lovely smile and I attempted to bat my eyelashes. Unfortunately, I lose at flirting, so I just kinda sauntered around in the hopes that I looked slightly cute.



After the fingerprints were taken from the car, Daddy tried to start the car, but it wouldn't even crank. Not even a little noise. The steering column was too messed up. The lights were coming on, so it wasn't the battery. Cute Cop asked if we needed help finding a tow truck to come get it, but I said, "Hey! I get four free tows a year with the roadside assistance I pay extra for from Cingular!" Sadly, I couldn't remember what I supposed to dial in order to get to it, so I called my grandma to see if she knew because she had a Cingular phone. Of course, she had no idea. Mom went home to find out what the number was. When I found out the number, I called, but my phone started cutting out. Typical. I got a dude on the line, and he was all nice, asking if I was in a safe place and such, and I said I just needed a tow truck. When I told him it had been stolen and the steering column was sufficiently fucked, he said that since it was a theft and vandalism had occurred, they couldn't give me a free tow. Bollocks.

So I thanked him for being nice and helpful (he did offer to help find a tow service around town) and hung up, cursing cell phone companies in general for being bastards. This was at 8:30ish and it was starting to get mosquito-y. Cute Cop was called back to the station for paperwork and said he could come back, but we said it'd be all right, and thanks for being so helpful and cute. People were starting to wander over from around the neighborhood. A young man came up to us, and with him was the cutest pit bull ever. For those of you who don't know, I love pit bulls and I want ooooone. This pit was very well taken care of and had apparently run off. He was sweet and I wanted to take him home, but he was much, much larger than a normal pit.

. . .Oh no. I have to tear myself away from the computer. :| I suppose this is to be continued!