And they've struck again.
The neighbors rang the doorbell this morning and dolorously announced that someone had stolen the side mirrors of both the automobiles of my siblings.
Idiots couldn't even get a simple theft right-- they left a souvenir.
It's happened before, of course. No point in filing a report. It'd be a lot easier to just cruise Banawe Street for our stolen car parts later today. Banawe street is a short walk from where I write. It's a mecca for car enthusiasts who want cheap parts and accessories. Me, I call it Car Parts/Chop Shop Central.
Considering the damage the thieves have likely wrought on the merchandise, they won't be getting any money for our side-mirrors Their junkie fix will have to wait.
Still, the motive could be territorial. My family's well-known in these parts and my siblings and I have likely been labeled as uppity snobs. One of us might have offended someone's sensibilities. Probably because we don't inflict A-kon or Soulja Boy on the neighborhood with the car speakers.
I didn't even have a music player in Hans, my borrowed Lancer. But he still lost a side mirror and got his windows tarred with only God knows what kind of gunk last Christmas morning.
See the pic? This is me no longer feeling violated. This is me being either being base-line pissed off or thinking "Hmmm. Curious."