06 November 2012

Leaving Mississippi (Part 1)

I'm currently in La Porte, but the story of how I got here merits a post, possibly two.

September was a very busy month.  David decided to take some time off work (basically all of October), and we both decided to do a bit of traveling and family-meeting during October before the Big Move.  So September was the month for packing and tying up loose ends.  Things were going fairly well until our last weekend in Biloxi.  Then shit hit the fan.

David threw one of his epic and highly memorable house parties to celebrate moving to Japan.  There were glow sticks, a fog machine, a slip-n-slide, and a host of other festivities.  Many friends showed up.  And some friends of friends.  And at least one thief.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  So our last weekend in Biloxi had a few important events.  I sold my car Friday night, Saturday night was the party, Sunday was the recovery and cleanup, and I was to start driving a U-Haul to La Porte on Monday.

Friday night went well:  I sold my car for $1500, which the new owner paid in cash.  I gave David $100 for something or other, then considered where I should put the remaining $1400.  It was late, so the bank wasn't an option.  Normally I'd put that much cash under a mattress or someplace stealthy, but since the house was torn apart for moving and we had guests staying the night, I decided that the best place for it would be in my wallet.  I didn't want to loose it in the move or accidentally forget it.

We spent the better part of Saturday cleaning and preparing for the party.  I baked many tasty treats.  David made hummus.  We entertained some early guests.  Then the party started.  It really was a good time.  David had devoted much time and effort into making a wonderful playlist.  The slip-n-slide was a huge hit.

But then one of my friends came to me with some bad news.  He'd borrowed my mountain bike to get to work, but someone stole it from his front porch Friday night.  I was pretty upset, but he was so apologetic that I quickly realized we'd work something out and it would be ok.  After all, I still had my road bike.

I went to sleep, but the party kept raging into the wee hours of the morning.  I woke up around sunrise, so I decided to take a walk around our neighborhoods to see if just maybe I could find my bike.  Of course I didn't, so I returned home after filing a police report.

I was talking to David when I had a terrible thought.  I snatched my purse and flung open my wallet.  But too late.  Some one--- some truly horrible, selfish some one--- had stolen the full $1400 out of my purse.  When I say that was my entire life savings, I mean that was my entire life savings.  That was the money I was going to use to buy my ticket to Japan.  That was the money I was going to use to pay for the U-Haul to get home.  That was the money that I was going to use to make minimum payments on my bills until I found a new job.  And it was gone.  Just like that.  I didn't even have it for a full 24-hours.

I collapsed.  Full-on, body-heaving sobs ripped from my soul.  All was lost.  How could I possibly recover from this?

We called the police, and despite his lip-service, the investigator literally made two phone calls, asked a few questions, then essentially gave up.  He didn't even follow-through when we gave him the names of the strangers our friends had seen looking through wallets and picking up phones.  He didn't even have my wallet checked for fingerprints, even though he said he would.  Biloxi Police Investigations disgusted me.  If anything like this ever happens to me again, I will likely just take care of it myself, vigilantly style.  I've never been so disappointed in a so-called "public servant" ever.  I understand finding stolen cash is nearly impossible, but to not even try?  My blood boils just thinking about it.

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