City Paper is not for tourists
My iPod was stolen essentially because of my own stupidity, so why make a report? Here’s why: The police might actually find it.
About a year ago, I went for a run and when I got back to the apartment, I noticed the sad, little flowers I planted in a window box were in need of a drink. So (here’s the stupid part) I set my pod down on a bench next to our front gate, went inside, filled up a jug, watered the plants, and went about my day. By the time I figured out my pod was probably stolen, I’d turned our place over three times looking for it.
So I learned to live without it. I didn’t deserve an iPod if I wasn’t going to take care of it. That’s what my mom would say. But, you know, once you have one and it’s gone, it’s like a phantom limb. Not really, but my boyfriend got me a nano for Christmas. Yippee! And then, a month later, that one was stolen along with my wallet, my keys, and everything else in my purse. And then, and then…said boyfriend kind of forgot my birthday, so he bought me a replacement, which he didn’t need to do, but: Yippee!
Fast forward a few months in this fascinating story to this morning, when a kind officer from the 3rd District Substation called me and read the inscription on an iPod cops found in a house while serving a warrant. She traced the serial number through Apple and, luckily, it was registered.
“Did you make a report?” she asked. I told her about being stupid. She wants to give it back to me anyway. And now I will have two, one to keep and one to give away to someone who will take better care of it than I did. I’m thinking of getting a new inscription on the back: I Heart D.C. Cops.