August 3, 2005

• The Case of the Burgled Bunny

  
  

  For new readers, the strip of cabins and storage units where I set up my flea market stand is unkindly known as Felony Flats–or Ghetto Lakes.  This refers to the fact that many of the denizens are ex-cons, welfare moms,   professional loonies (that is, folks who at one time would be in mental hospitals, but who are sent out into the world with a pat in the head and a handfull of pills–they are usually harmless unless they forget to take their meds and/or go on alcohol binges–but I digress), meth freaks, and other individuals who do not have much role in, say, setting national policy on foreign affairs.  Shit, I am one of the most respectable epople there, which alone should tell you a lot.

  
  

  I have a 10 by twelve foot cabin which I share with ten cats, so I don’t have much closet space–shit, I don’t even HAVE a closet. Hence, I have a lot of stuff stored on the porch–boxes of videos and books, a cube fridge, a typewriter, jugs of water, laundry detergent–stuff like that.  And although I have lived there for three years, no one has ever messed with my stuff.  This is partly because I live close to the offic under a big security light : partly because I make an effort to ingratiate myself with my low-life neighbors; and partly because, brain-damaged as they might be, most folks there know better than to fuck with someone who sells weapons for a living.

  
  

  Last night, I got robbed.  Okay, not robbed–ripped off.  (There’s a difference–ask SuSu, Secretary of Space and Nitpicker General.)  And this happened while I was in the cabin and awake.  I have this cute little porcelin bunny I scrounged out of the dumpster one time, and he sits in the little yard next to my porch steps.  Other than the hanging flower basket and big flower pot on the porch (thanks to SuSu for these amenities!), everything else these is just utilitarian  stuff that has no place else to go.  Right before I went down last night when I went out to lock the car, I notived the bunny was gone.  The rabbit ran!  My bunny had been burgled!

  
  

  I figured it pretty much had to be the work of a drunk, a loony, or an irresponsible kid–we have plenty of all three here.  Being a smidge paranoid, I wondered if this was some weird plot to fuck with my head, but figured the locals incapable of such subtleties of thought.  This morning, I mentioned it to Tawanna, the landlord’s wife.  She knew nothing about the lone lepus.  A bit later, I talked to the landlord, who laughed and showed me where it has landed, minus one ear, in the trash can.  It seems his three-year old had purloined it and was carting it around in a toy truck.  It fell out, the ear broke, and Mike, not knowing–or caring, evidently–who the owner was, just pitched it.

  
  

  But I got my bunny back, and Mike provided me with a tube of Superglue to replace the ear.  The really cool thing is, one of my knife stands arrived broken.  The wholesaler will replace it gratis, but I won’t have to return it, since the shipping charge would exceed its value.  All I have in the way of cement is Elmer’s, which is not puissant enough for the job, and the Superglue will be perfect.

  
  

  The Universe works in strange and mysterious ways.  Whenever I need something, I always get it, one way or another.  SuSu calls it being in the Flow.

  
  

  Life is good.

  • 2:54 pm
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