I knew this day would come. I knew that, despite how great this city is overall, and how much happier I am here than I was in LA, something shitty was bound to happen, and then I would be incredibly sad and want to go home. Luckily, I have not been mugged, or raped, which is what I thought it would be. Frequently, when people move to new cities, they don’t know the terrain so they make rookie mistakes and get themselves fucked up.
After my little “I Love Portland” stunt yesterday, I won’t be surprised if I get mugged and/or raped now that I’ve said this, but fortunately, and for now, the only bad things have happened to my car. This is the third time that a car of mine or Ben’s has had it’s passenger side mirror torn off and stolen.
Who the fuck keeps stealing passenger side mirrors?! And further, why does it always seem to be my mirror? I’ve asked everyone I can, every possible place I can, and no one else has ever experienced this in their entire life. But it happens to us on three different cars in two separate states.
It’s not like the mirror was hit, it’s on the sidewalk side. It’s also not like the mirror was taken off in any way that would make it possible to be reattached to another car at a later date. It’s completely broken. There is no resale value.
According to the Honda dealership, it’s a $300 repair. Part of me wants to get them to replace it so the color matches and everything. The rest of me wonders why I should bother because it’s probably going to happen again. I mean, this is a pattern, is it not?
Also, the same mirror in matte black is only $70 on Ebay. It’s kind of hard to justify $230 for it to be blue. Especially because our accountant told us we need to be making more money. 500 more money a month, to be precise. Which isn’t that much, and actually I think I found that in the week from when she told us ’til now, but spending money is the opposite of what I’m trying to do right now.
It’s not illegal to drive without a side-view mirror in Portland, but a car with one missing mirror is practically begging to be balanced, if you know what I mean. I don’t actually need it for driving. Portland traffic is so mellow and easy that I can actually take the time to turn my head all the way over my shoulder before I take a lane change.
It does feel particularly personal now that we live in such a small neighborhood. When our mirrors got ripped off in LA there were literally thousands of other people and millions of ways that could have happened. Everybody rode bikes on the sidewalk all the time, there was graffiti and trash everywhere, and bands of bored, restless and disenfranchised youths roamed the streets at all hours. Just about everybody was nice, but all it took was one pissed off kid and your mirror is a symbol of their rage. Here, I live in a fourplex. There’s a fiveplex across the street, and every other lot is 2-3 bedroom family homes.
People ride their bikes in the street because it’s safe to, there’s almost no kids, and the kids that are here all live biking distance from everything their little kid hearts could possibly want. The sky is blue, the trees are green, and the flowers are blooming. From my bed I can hear at least 5 distinct species of birds and all of the people who live here are white. Or at least the car-mirror theft demographic is. I think we have several elderly Asian people and one or two Black babies. But I digress. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE STEALING MIRRORS ABOUT?
I’m so pissed off about this. I’m already not having that great of a week. Whenever my money situation seems even the slightest bit off, I tend not to deal well with that, as invested as my personal identity is in work and money. The anxiety over that, the pressure to fix it immediately, and the massive feelings of failure over not being able to snap my fingers and make $500 fall out of my ass instantly are all weighing on me.
I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. This place is just too great, and I am (barring days where my accountant makes me sad or my mirror gets vandalized) far too happy for this to be what’s actually happening. Mark my words, the mirror won’t be an isolated incident. Today will be the day you can point to when they ask where it all fell apart. This is it. First my mirror, then my inevitable mugging and/or rape. Hell, it’ll probably be a gang rape with all the happiness I need to balance out on this scale. At least I had exactly two months of relative calm. Before I died screaming. That’s probably next.
UPDATE: An Internet stranger has informed me that junkies steal car mirrors because they’re easy to use when you have to find a hard to see vein, like in your neck or the back of your leg. My Google searches for “car mirror” +heroine were inconclusive. It actually makes me feel better to think that the mirror was stolen for a reason and not out of pure, stupid meanness.