The Silver Lining of Car Theft

In which I attempt to paint the theft of my car as a good thing

Two weeks ago, I awoke to find my car missing.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the tail end of a birthday weekend in which I planned to do a whole lot of relaxing. Since NFL football starts at the ungodly hour of 10:00 a.m. on the West Coast and it was the final week of the regular season, I had taken the unprecedented step of setting an alarm with nowhere to be.

After about two and a half hours of football, when it became clear that, despite a total meltdown by the Patriots offense and a truly resplendent late-season surge from Kenny Pickett, the hapless Jets were not going to defeat the Dolphins and their third-string quarterback, I accepted that my beloved Steelers were going to miss the playoffs and reluctantly went about my day.

My fellow tenants and I share a washer and dryer via a common basement entrance, which is only accessible by leaving the building’s front door and walking around to the back. Walking down our front steps, out of the corner of my eye I noticed my car wasn’t p…