That Rug Really Tied The Room Together.

So, yesterday was an adventure......

I get home around 12:10 for lunch and notice that the DVD rack has a huge section missing out of it. Since I'm super anal about my movies and music (I alphabetize by title) I immediately notice that it's my Lord of the Rings DVDs that are gone. I then look up to notice that the ps2 is gone as well. None of this bothers me; I just figure that P has taken the movies and DVD player to school to watch with her class. However, it dawns on me that she's not allowed to show anything over a G rating, hummmmmmmmm. So when I get to work I shoot an e-mail to her:

Mole: How did you get the school to approve you showing Lord of the Rings to your class?
P: What are you talking about?
Mole: You didn't take the Lord of the Rings movies and the ps2 to school?
P: Why would I do that?

At this point alarms start to go off in my head. I leave work and run back home to find that our DVD player in the bedroom and my Star Wars trilogy (the new one, not the good one) has been stolen. I'm sick, I've been robbed.

I call the police and they send an officer to my house that has good news, they've caught the bad guys. YES! Score one for law enforcement. When I get "downtown" they take me out back to the truck of the thieves and let me rummage around for all of my stuff. I find all of my DVDs including Starsky and Hutch, as well as my DVD player and ps2. What I'm surprised to find is that they also took my pellet gun, 2 old sleeping bags, a machete my sister brought back from Mexico, and my flip flops. Now, I was disappointed to find my LoTR DVDs gone because they were the extended editions and my parents had given them to me as gifts over the past three years for Christmas. They are good films, but also hold sentimental value because I'm always appreciative of any gift my parents give me, except pleated pants. Anyway, I was upset about losing them, but, when I would have realized that my flip flops had been stolen, I would have been pissed; PISSSSSEEDDDDD!!!!! These flip flops are probably my most prized possession. They are all I wear in the summer and were worth every penny I spent, not mention they can open a beer.

In the end, the officers were really nice, and they let me take all my property back home. I pressed charges, and that's the end of the story. Right? Come on, I live Grain-vull (thanks Deuce). You know there's got to be something funnier than stolen flip flops in the wild ass circus that is my life.

I can talk to anyone, at anytime, about anything. Calling ball has afforded me a pretty disarming charm that makes people want to open up. It's something that's useful when talking to coaches on Friday nights, and equally annoying to P when she's trying to leave Canton and I'm chatting up a dirt merchant about what flag was the official one of the Confederacy.

Focus Mole!!!!!!!! The story!!!!!!!

So I pull into the police station and the officer sends me inside to a waiting area with instructions to wait for him to come get me. As I enter the room there is a couple in their early 50s and an elderly lady that had to be in her 70s. I walk over to the elderly lady and lean next to the wall and it begins.

Elderly L: Did you need to talk to me?
Mole: No ma'am, I'm waiting on a police officer.
Other Lady: Looks like we all are.
***Silence***
EL: You know, everything started going bad when I moved to Greenville.
M: I'm sorry?
EL: Everything started going wrong when I moved here.
M: What do you mean?
El: Well it's just the house I live in, I hear noises.
M: You do?
El: Well I haven't worn my hearing thang in a while but I KNOW there is something in my attic
M: You can hear it moving around?
EL: Yes, I know it's there, I know it.
M: Is it a squirrel or some kind of varmint?
EL: (with a dejected look) I grew up on a farm, I think I'd know what a squirrel would sound like, I'm not afraid of squirrels.
M: Oh, sorry.
***Silence***
El: I'll tell you what it is though.
M: Ok.
EL: Even though my children have looked up there and can't find anything I know what's up there. A Mexican Family.
Other Lady:***furrowed brow "WHAT?" look***
M: (winking at the other lady) Really, you're sure?
EL: I know it, I can here ‘em up there. I'm scared at night when I sleep, and I'm afraid they're going to steal from me when I leave. But, they're nice Mexicans, they leave everything like I left it between the time I leave and come home.
M: Ahhhh.
EL: I just can't take it anymore though, they may be nice Mexicans but it's my house, and that’s why I shot by the wall.
M: You did what?
El: Well, I went by the wall, cause I knew they wouldn't be by the wall, and I shot through the ceiling and through the roof. I didn't want to hurt the Mexicans; I just wanted them to leave but now I have this ringing in my ear that won’t go away. ***as she starts to open hand hit the side of her head***

At this point the other lady is giving me a terrified look and the police officer that is helping me comes in. “Come with me please”, he says. As I leave, I look back at the elderly lady who is still talking, and say, "You take care now".

Really though, this stuff only happens in Grain-vull. You can't make this shit up.

Update: Turns out, that after describing the truck the robbers were using to P's little brother he identified the guy. He's a kid that P has gone to church with her entire life. I wonder if this story can get any more inbred?

Dude, Mexican is not the preferred nomenclature. Hispanic-American, please.