#goddamn springfield

It's a shame I don't write fanfic (don't try to find my warrior cats fanfic please I beg you) because I would have had some of the authors notes of all time.

So. The First Bike Thing.

I lived in Springfield (take your pick which one) for the last three years for school. I lived just on the edge of a busy road but still nestled in a neighborhood, yet it took me until my last nine months of living there to finally cave and buy a bike. I'd been holding out on getting a red mountain bike, but then I saw a small gray Huffy bike for only $100 and went for it. I rode that thing whenever I had the energy and whenever I didn't want to spend the gas to go down the street to Walmart to buy hand soap, or to run to the gas station for an energy drink. I could bike there, like Dedrick did on the bike he stole!

Well. One morning, my roommate had a friend come over to work on a project. She opens the door. Pauses. "Hey, Evan?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's your bike?"

Alas. It was no longer on the porch. And I never saw it again. Probably. That was tragic, but whatever. It was maybe $150 total including accessories, but I'd only had it for a month. Was it incredibly violating? Definitely. Was I sad? Absolutely. Did I actually expect to get it back? Nope.

The season was getting cold, so I didn't commit to getting a new bike for a while. Then, when spring came back around, I was saving up money to move out of "goddamn Springfield."

One morning, my roommate was leaving early to go to Panera to study. I heard her get up, get ready, leave. Then, she came back in. Stood in my doorway. "Hey, Evan?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's your car?"

Alas. It was no longer in my parking spot. It was a Kia Soul. This was Springfield. The university routinely sent out reminders to Kia's and Hyundai's to receive free steering wheel locks, because this is Springfield and those are Kia's and Hyundais.

I make a post on the city's Reddit. A guy comments, "Hey, my car was stolen last night, too!" I click on his page. His first and last name are on there. I knew him. Very briefly. He lives on campus. His car was parked on campus. He goes to campus security to view their shitty footage. His car was stolen by a Kia Soul. MY Kia Soul. (A Hyundai was also stolen from campus, and my car was stolen by a Hyundai, so I know where that fit into all of this).

The week they stole my car, they tried to pawn off a Stargate dagger I kept in my car for good luck. Which is how they got the name of one of the conspirators. I can't believe the anime-weeb-ass-shit my friends and I did in high school--convincing ourselves we had to keep the dagger on us at all times because it'll be important to "the plot"--was ACTUALLY IMPORTANT TO A GOD DAMN PLOT.

Anyway, two weeks pass, I've had a rental car for a while. I drive to the city where I'm moving to for what I thought was an interview, and it turned out to kind of be a religious intervention because they neglected to mention they were a faith-based company. Before the interview, my insurance agent calls to let me know she's going to just total my car so they don't have to keep paying for a rental. Works for me, I'm moving in like, two weeks minimum.

After the interview, on my way back to "goddamn Springfield," my father calls me. Something I've never been used to because usually it's my mom calling me, but doubly so because before this whole car incident, my parents were barely on speaking terms because of the whole Trans Thing. Truly, this car-theft situation was the best non-traumatizing thing to happen to our relationship.

Anyway, my dad calls me. Springfield found my car. The next morning, my roommate and I go to the tow yard where it's at. The steering column is completely fucked. They've been driving it with a screwdriver. They didn't keep my prescription sunglasses or my high school collage of my dead cat, but they did keep my REALLY nice snow boots, all of my canes, my stuffed snakes I wrap around the headrests, and my corgi air freshener. Of the stuff in the car that wasn't mine, that included: an impressive amount of reese's pieces, a bullet casing, several clothes with the tags still on, "party favors" from a local strip club, a taco bell receipt that was after my car had been stolen, a bright green adidas fanny pack with the tag still on, filled with like twelve very heavy and worn watches, and a United States Marine Corps KA-BAR knife that the cop let me keep.

Even though they caught the guy in like late-April, SOMEHOW (I truly do not know how, it's not in any of the police reports) he wasn't actually arrested when they found him SLEEPING IN MY CAR. They had him in custody, he was a repeat offender, etc. yet somehow he didn't get arrested formally...until my birthday! May 29th! A FULL ASS MONTH LATER. Goddamn Springfield indeed but alright whatever.