Hey, everybody! I just wanted to let those of you in the Boston area know that I will be at a wonderful event at the Wellesley Booksmith this Thursday from 6:00-8:00 and would love to see you there!
All right, everyone. I know most of you who read this are my real-life friends so you already know about how I was robbed a million times in the last couple of months but you know what? I am going to write about how I was robbed a million times over the past couple of months anyway. A girl needs to express herself! And as a bonus I am going to toss in a description about the time two weeks ago I was nearly offed by a gluten-free baker. To allay stressful tension not caused by my skill as a narrator, I will tell you I was not harmed at all in any of the robberies and I was only present for one of them. Two of them. Well, three of them. But not with face to face contact or anything. Because the outlaws did everything behind my back!
TIMES I WAS ROBBED IN THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS:
Time 1: Russia! Russia Russia Russia; credit card swiped in Russia and not by a reputable merchant in the course of a normal transaction. But we have covered this ground. Let us save this space for new evidence of how I am the epicenter of crime. All I will say is that little did I know it was only the start of the me-based crime wave.
Time 2: Last month I went to visit a school. A very nice school in a town that has a name but I will not divulge it. Let’s call it Stealieville. I primed myself for the visit by purchasing a cup of coffee in one of Stealieville’s coffee shops, only to turn around from putting cream in my cup to find that my purse had been snatched! By a real, live purse snatcher! I looked all about for someone tiptoeing evilly away to music that went “dum dum dum DUM DUM” on plucked strings while wearing a black bandana tied over their eyes with holes cut out for seeing, but no one fit that description. The awful part of was that I had no gas to get home or money to get it with and no way to prove to the bank in town that I was me. And I had also just dyed my hair red (I have red hair now, you guys!) so that I didn’t even match a description of myself. But this little problem got solved and I did get home after all. Which is good because I needed to be there to be robbed again a week or so later for:
Time 3: We keep tires in a place that is accessible from the out of doors. Someone accessed our tires from the out of doors. Without permission, I hasten to add. My teeny, tiny dachshunds scared them away and they only got away with one, leaving others strewn all about. (I know they only got away with one because there used to be eight tires in there and after this there were only seven. This shows you that I am not only one of the best counters in my house (sorry to brag!) but that I am also good at subtracting.) Let me tell you, they may as well have stolen all four of my tires because guess what? Tire people won’t sell you one new tire to round out your other three! You have to get four! And do know what costs a lot? FOUR TIRES! But nonetheless, my takeaway here is that EVERYBODY NEEDS DACHSHUNDS. If only they had been with me while I was getting coffee during Time 2!
Interlude: FOR DEATH. Went to gluten-free bakery with chum. Very happy about gluten-free bakery, as I am one of Those People. Chum and I explained our various allergies (peanuts-me) (sundry dairy-chum) to the Deeply Flustered girl behind the counter. She was not Deeply Flustered by our allergies. I feel she was Deeply Flustered by life. This has bearing.
After we chose our cupcakes, I realized that there was no way I was not going to want even more cupcakes to eat in my own home while watching shameful television over the next couple of days. (I can’t even tell you which programs. None of you will love me anymore. Okay, fine. One of them rhymes with Babby’s Lultimate Pants Zompetition). Well, Deeply Flustered Girl (DFG) was so DF that she filled it my cupcake box with peanut butter cupcakes. But, to her credit, she realized it almost immediately. We tried to joke with her about nearly killing me but DFG was now even more DF so there was no joking to be had, which was too bad. She unsealed the box, took out the cupcakes and then filled the box with another kind of cupcake THAT ALSO CONTAINED STUPID PEANUT BUTTER. Which of course I did not know until I bit into one, all unknowing, just as “Babby” was screaming at the first child in her “Pants Zompetition”. You know what happened next. Picture a malformed and near-exploding tomato and that will be a fair representation of how my anaphylactic head looked.
But! Epi did the trick, and I live to tell you of:
Time 4: I am going to skip lightly over this one, because this time, it wasn’t me who was robbed, but a friend of mine who lives some ten miles away. Her car was broken into, wallet stolen, and the bits of it strewn all over creation (except the dollars and the cards). One of the strewn bits—her driver’s license—was flung out of the perp’s window pretty much right in front of where we live, which was bizarre, but gave me a good opportunity to Look for Clues and Insert Myself into the Investigation. (You all know I like this sort of thing. Remember Officer Fondant?) Anyway, no trauma there, just sympathy for my friend. Except maybe a little trauma at being shown once again I live in some kind of Perp Path.
Time 5: I went back to Stealieville to visit another school, because I never learn. This time, people, this time hoodlums broke into my car and, finding nothing but dog toys and old crayons, STOLE ALL MY HALLOWEEN CANDY. I had been planning to give that to the teachers in the school I was going to visit that day BUT NO. Darned perps! In this instance I was too late for even the hope of catching the strains of the dumdumdum thief string music so I just had to make my candyless way to that school. Demoralized, but determined.*
And that is all. LET US HOPE THIS IS THE END OF ALL THIS MANNER OF THING because come on.
*To buy more candy.