TS, drop the P and the D

Professional lives in a small town where the only crime that occurs is pumpkin smashing. “You’ve got to say it right, ‘punkin smashin’,” she regularly corrects me. The other day, in the big city, I noticed a few smashed pumpkins. “Looks like the country folk are infiltrating,” I advised her as the two of us headed to a the movie theater.

We arrived at the theater and, before going in, Professional changed from her grey comfy cardigan to a black coat. “I’m like Mr. Rogers, but I’m not changing my shoes.”

After enjoying the movie marathon, we returned to her car where I immediately saw a grey jacket on the ground near her car. Then, I noticed broken glass, everywhere. “Is that your jacket? Somebody broke into your car,” I asked and reported without taking a breath. “What? Why? Why would someone do that?” she asked in shock.

Turns out, somebody broke into several people’s vehicles, and he hit a gold mine when he broke into Professional’s car because he secured a leather messenger bag equipped with a MacBook and an iPad, as well as a large teal tote perfect for carrying any other items he pillaged.

Fortunately, a few individuals on a smoke break heard the car alarms and chased the suspect. He entered an elevator which left him only a few options – stay in or get out – and when the elevator stopped on the main level, his only option was to get out with his newly acquired messenger bag, teal tote, and broken glass in his pockets. “You know what we call this in police work?” the officer asked the suspect, pointed to the broken glass and then answered his own question, “Clues.” “I could do without your smart aleckiness right now,” the suspect replied and surrendered all that he had pinched.

Professional, whose stolen items were essentially immediately returned, was still in shock. “Why would someone break my window? I just don’t understand. And why didn’t he want that grey jacket?” “No sense of style,” I responded. “I mean if he asked I would have given him money or a ride,” she told the officer. “Bad idea ma’am,” the officer advised and added, “He’s a drug addict. Don’t give him or any other drug addicts any rides or money. From now on, you should put your valuables in your trunk.”

Professional opened her trunk and we all quickly realized why these items were stolen from the backseat of her car. “I kind of live out of my car. You never know when you’re going to need something. Like this mobile wrapping kit,” she said and held up a small container with wrapping paper, tape, scissors, ribbon and cards. “Too bad that wasn’t in the backseat. Your thief could have left you a thank you note or wrapped the computers and tried to convince the cops they were gifts,” I told her.

“Sorry,” Professional told the officer while continuing to rummage through her trunk and justifying all of her belongings, “I’m suffering from PTSD.” “Pretty sure it’s just TS right now, drop the P and the D,” I quipped. Professional agreed, put her bags in the trunk and asked, “Why didn’t he want my jacket? It would have looked great in a mug shot.”