roadrunnertwice: Scott fends off Matthew Patel's attack. (Reversal! (Scott Pilgrim))
My telephone got stolen tonight, and then I got it back. This might be the dumbest thing to happen to me all year.

For reasons involving a working vacation, a wedding, and a bunch of plane trips, I picked up a friend’s stored car at another friend’s house, took it back to my house, and unloaded a bunch of stuff into my living room. And left my iphone on the passenger seat, like some kind of jackass. It was out of my sight for maybe 50 seconds, tops.

Anyway, I get back into the car after unloading, and it’s gone. I bail out, ask the group of random women walking by if they saw someone grab a phone out of the car, and — AMAZINGLY — one of them says “Oh yeah, he walked that way! I think it might be that guy!” And she points at a dude who’s just, like, standing there, a block down the way.

I dash after him. He sees me, and stays standing there, slouching a bit. He’s a tall, weedy-looking white guy, with sort of bulging eyes and that slightly-too-skinny face where you’re like, okay, probably a tweaker.

I have no idea what I’m doing or what’s going to happen here, but I’m imagining some humiliating scenarios. I figure, 60% chance he’s got my phone (wasn’t enough time for someone else to grab it and disappear unseen; has to be SOMEONE within a block and a half of me; could’ve been those gals from earlier, but the timing didn’t seem right), but if he decides to stonewall, like, what the fuck can I do? Sit there and argue with him? There’s pretty much nothing else on the table! I’m not gonna, like, try to kick his ass and search him, because I’m not a vigilante psychopath. (Also, everything else wrong with that idea.) Getting the cops involved would be, like… I just can’t even fathom how that would go, and plus I would really rather not increase police presence in this neighborhood. Also, the fuck am I gonna use to call anybody, because I don’t have a telephone anymore. If he denied everything, he’d probably just get to keep my shit.

But that all turns out to be irrelevant, because he fucking volunteers my phone back to me. He says, “Are you the guy whose phone just got taken?” He pulls it out of his pocket. “I saw that guy that did it. I stopped him. Like, I saw him, it was a guy in a green shirt. He went that way.”

I take the phone back. “Awesome, thanks,” I say. “You’re a helper. I gotta go now.” And then I went back to my friend’s car and went to pick her and her fiancΓ©e up at the airport.




Like, that situation is end-to-end bizarre, right? I’m not just tripping?

Anyway, tonight I am thankful for dirtbags who embrace the concept of “easy come, easy go.”
roadrunnertwice: Me looking up at the camera, wearing big headphones and a striped shirt. (Mischief brewin'!)
That was a nice night's worth of raging revelry. Pat was in town, so we went bowling and drinking. I was getting drowsy for a while, on account of having to open shop that morning, but pulled through for the big finish. And by "finish" I mean "getting trashed." I pulled my usual trick of somehow avoiding the hangover I deserved, and good fun was had all around.

And the lads are playing a show tonight! Hurray. My back tire's got a flat! Boo. My mouse's scroll ball is working again thanks to the wonders of (isopropyl) alcohol! Hurray.

Life's all right. I really want to stop worrying about money sometime soon, though.

EDIT: W. T. F.



I was wondering what could have made it through those tires. This little guy went all the way through, leaving two holes in the tube. Nice.