You think your life is fucked up? Try living a piece of mine.

"Hey, that's my bike!"

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Last night, This Man spent another night with Raymond (who, I must say, I'm really beginning to enjoy). I don't have to go into details about what happened but things turned out great because even though, This Man has said on several occasions that I wouldn't spend the night at his house, however last night, I did. This morning, after scrambled egg whites & coffee (he is a bodybuilder, after all), Raymond and I were looking out his window and happened to notice a young guy peering into the car parked on the street behind my Jeep.
We both noticed that it was odd, but then Raymond informed me that the car was in fact, for sale so I paid it no mind and went back to my breakfast. However, once in my car that's when I noticed that my bike was gone and that I had been robbed also! My messenger bag (don't worry, it was from Old Navy) was gone! And my other backpack that I carry when riding my bike was gone also (inside it was a pair of sweaty running shorts and a 12 dollar bottle of Kiehl's body lotion, as well as my CD player).
I couldn't believe this shit!
Oh yeah, and I have to mention that in my messenger bag was my wallet and my phone. So as you can see now, I'm officially triple fucked! No bike, no wallet, no phone. Why didn't the robbers just take the car also?
I hollered up to Raymond's apartment and informed him of what had happened. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when, after calling the San Diego Police and with it being a 'non-emergency', the dispatcher told me that a cop would call between 7a.m. and 10 o'clock that evening.
Needless to say, my day was already ruined. I spent the next few hours contacting Cingular to stop service to my phone, I had to alert the credit agencies as well as, call my bank to cancel my cards. Later on that afternoon, I was strolling through North Park, peering in the pawn shops in hopes of finding my bicycle but to no avail. But that's when, in the middle of all of my drama, who did I run into but The Dutchman. He was hanging out in his usual bar and came out on the sidewalk to say hello. Of all people to run into today, he he was. Tanned and dressed down in his work clothes, he invited me into the bar to relax, have a beer and to hang with him and his buddies. I know I shouldn't have taken him up on the offer, but it was refreshing to see his handsome face. So let's just say that This Man spent the rest of the afternoon with The Dutchman and every once in a while, I would ask myself, " How did a day that started off so bad, end up with me having a great time with a man that I used to be crazy about?"
Somewhere between my fifth and tenth Budweiser, This Man started questioning whether my having my car broken into was some sort of omen. I mean, was it possible that this was all a sign that maybe I shouldn't be seeing Raymond? Or maybe I shouldn't be spending as much time with him as I have been? I discussed this with The Dutchman and even though what he said, I agree with ( that this could've happened anywhere and to anyone), but still there was that part of me that wondered.


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  • From San Diego, California, United States
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