Lost Faith in Police

This weekend my precious Charlene (my car) was stolen. AGAIN. Yep, that's right. Stolen for the second time in 2 years. The last time she was stolen it was on Grand Ave in St. Paul. This time it was behind our building in Minneapolis. This time however, it was far more suspicious, if you ask me. My poor little Saturn, she's nothing flashy or fancy and yet thieves seem to love her. Here's what happened and why my faith in police has dwindled.

First of all, I last drove my car on Friday, January 25th on the way home from work. I parked it, locked it, and went inside. I walked past it on Saturday evening, and she was there, whole and fine and undisturbed. Jack had to work at 5 am on Sunday morning, so he got up to leave and I rolled over and went back to sleep. His car, recently fixed, was parked out front, so he didn't notice whether Charlene was still out back. In any case, I received a phone call from Chris Fitek, a police officer from Eden Prairie informing me that my car's plates had been captured as someone had sped off from a gas station in Eden Prairie with $26 worth of unpaid gasoline in my car. Having awoken maybe 20 minutes earlier, I was flabbergasted by what she was trying to explain.