Dude, Where’s My Car?

My hands were shaking uncontrollably.

My heart was racing hysterically.

Lights were flashing all around me.

My eyes were sore…

I felt like crying but couldn’t.

The policeman was saying something to me but all I could hear was the sound of sirens blaring in the background.

There I was inside a white Hyundai Excel – broken door lock and screw driver in the ignition.

Somehow I had found myself smack dab in the middle of a major crime scene.

And if you had to draw a picture of what guilty looked like, this would be it.

But I wasn’t guilty, I was innocent, I was the victim.

I remember thinking why is this happening to me?

What did I do to deserve this?

And how the hell did I get myself into this mess?

Excitement doesn’t come around very often.

Most days are kind of routine and boring.

I get up, take a shower, go to work, do my time in front of the computer.

Say goodnight to whoever’s left in the office and then go home.

Nothing interesting ever happens.

I don’t know anyone interesting.

And I’ve been called boring on more than one occasion.

To be honest, sometimes I do wish that something exciting would happen, something thrilling, something scary, anything, just so I can be reminded that I’m still alive.

Little did I realise that the events of the next day would shake the very foundations of my safe little world and change my perspective on life forever.

The night before I was on my way home from work.

It was just another Thursday night, time to do some shopping, make dinner and veg out in front of the television.

I was living in North Strathfield at the time and working in Parramatta so it was convenient for me to stop by the Parramatta shopping centre.

I went into Coles and was there for less than thirty minutes.

Yet, when I came out, my car was gone.

It had been stolen!

I would learn later on that Parramatta is the car theft capital of Australia.

How frustrating… I had a meeting to go to the next day.

So I went to the nearest police station and filed a report.

There wasn’t much that they could do – chances were that I wouldn’t see my car again any time soon.

So I caught the train home – what else could I do?

I didn’t have anyone I could turn to for help?

It was a tough night, I had trouble sleeping and so I just lay in bed until the sun came up.

I felt violated.

I felt abused.

I felt like a piece of me had been ripped out and thrown away.

The next morning the phone rang.

It was the police.

They had found my car and they wanted me to come pick it up from the depot.

For a brief moment I actually felt happy.

I thought “Great, I can pick up my car and still be on time for my meeting”.

When I got to the depot joy turned into disappointment.

My little white Hyundai Excel was covered in black dust.

The passenger side door lock had been busted and the ignition ruined.

My car had been used in some sort of crime but the police wouldn’t tell me exactly what had happened.

Fortunately I was fully insured, all I had to do now was focus and make sure that I got to the meeting on time and then I could take the car to the mechanic and have it fixed.

So I took control of the situation.

Found a screwdriver, which I kept in the glove compartment.

Stuck it into the ignition, gave it a twist and to my surprise…

The engine started!

Off I went, this was incredible, last night my car had been stolen and now less than twelve hours later it had been recovered.

Nobody would believe me if I told them.

This was exciting.

This was thrilling.

This was freedom.

Even though it was completely thrashed, it was still my car, I was in the driver’s seat, I was back in control once again and everything would be okay once more.

Unfortunately, the meeting was in Campbelltown, a part of the city that I was unfamiliar with, so unfortunately I took a few wrong turns and got lost.

Suddenly I could see a policeman walking slowly in my direction.

“Oh no,” I thought “Did I do something wrong?”

“Was I speeding?”

“Did I run a red light?”

“Did he think that I had stolen this car?”

I felt numb and couldn’t move a muscle.

I don’t react well in these sorts of situations because they rarely happen to me.

He knocked on the window.

I wound it down.

He said “What part of stay out don’t you understand?”

Somehow I had managed to drive right into the middle of a major crime scene and had missed all of the warning signs.

He told me to leave immediately so I drove a few blocks before stopping to catch my breath and regain my composure.

It was then that I was approached by a huge Maori bloke who leaned on my car and said “Hey you, woz yews here last night? Coz there woz a car just like this one here last night and we woz robbed!”

I assured him that it wasn’t me but instead of sticking around to explain what had happened my nerves got the better of me, I turned on the engine and quickly drove off.

I was totally freaking out.

I mean, what are the chances that I would end up at the scene of the crime that had been committed the night before?

Very, very, weird!

I finally arrived at the client’s office.

Only to discover that they had decided to cancel their contract with us.

Now, they weren’t a huge client but still, anytime you lose a client, it’s not a good situation to be in.

And it didn’t help that I was forty minutes late either.

Not good, not good at all.

How was I going to explain this to my boss?

Surely he would understand that I was having a very bad day?

Surely I wouldn’t lose my job just because of this?

I had really hit rock bottom – I went from the frustration of losing my car, to the joy of recovering it again, to the fear of potentially losing my job, all in less than one day.

What was I going to do if I got fired?

How would I pay the bills?

Where would I live?

I decided to take a chance.

I turned to the client and tried to explain to him everything that had happened.

How my car had been stolen.

How I got lost and managed to accidentally drive right into the middle of a major crime scene and how a huge angry Maori guy had almost bashed me.

I felt desperate.

I felt lost.

I couldn’t hold back my tears.

He looked at me and said “Give me a second, I just need to discuss this with my boss.”

The client was a health care centre and the boss was the head doctor.

He disappeared and I remained in the waiting room.

What happened next would change me forever…

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a little boy trying to kick a little ball.

But he had an odd way of walking and wasn’t able to kick the ball properly, he tried many times but failed repeatedly.

I jokingly said to him “What’s the matter – you fall off your bike or something?”

To which he replied “No, I’ve been like this my whole life.”

And that was the moment that put everything into perspective.

Despite all of my problems and how tough my life was.

I was not that little kid.

I was not destined to spend my entire life walking on crutches or in a wheel chair.

Now, whenever life gets difficult I just think of that day.

I think of that little boy.

And I realise how truly lucky I really am.