“C.S.I. C.S.I.”

January 13th, 2009

Anthony & I ought to be on one of those dozens of C.S.I. programs.  And my father ought to be proud.

As I was stepping out of the shower this morning, Ant slumped his head around the bathroom door.  “Someone broke into my car…”

Oh no! Indeed, someone had.  Some lame idiot who I presume attempts to make/supplement a living by lifting other people’s rightfully earned goods.  That’s a pathetic way to live.

I quickly dressed, snatched up the baby, & went outside to see the damage.  The driver’s door window lay out on the rocks beside the driveway, glass shattered into a million pieces but all held together by a thin layer of tinting.  Inside where the stereo once lived was nothing but severed wires hanging droopily, looking exhausted, out of an empty cave.  Intestines yanked out hastily in a fit of greed.  They looked like melancholy worms, their lover torn away from them.  The sight of the glove compartment open wide & gaping at us delivered the nasty taste of violation.

There’s the crime scene.
Here’s the investigation.

Our insurance company wanted documentation that a stereo had, in fact, once lived in that empty expanse.  We could hand over its packaging or a receipt as proof.  Ant bought the thing over four years ago & had no idea where the receipt would be & was certain he didn’t have the box.  After 3 moves?  No sir, not likely. Aside from proof of its actual existence, we needed to provide the model number.

So began the search for a photograph.  We each had the tell-all photo in mind, but a quick iPhoto hunt through various vacation albums confirmed both of us wrong.

If we’re still following the course of a C.S.I. episode, here came the ever predictable epiphany:  A recalling of a night when we spent an hour or so just lounging in Ant’s car in the drive, radio playing, camera alive.

This is why you have to save those completely random photographs.  This is why you can’t bring yourself to drag them to the trash.  For occasions such as these.

Photo mailed, case resolved.

I know, we did not find the thief in this episode.  But we did play investigators & boy was it exciting to find a solution to part of the mystery.

As I was nursing The Wee late this morning I realized I’d left the house with unbrushed teeth.  All the happenings led me to forget this very basic task.  I’m surprised I remembered my pants.

The characters on C.S.I. ought to have scuzzy teeth.  It sure would add to their credibility.

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