As we were looking around, someone asked us what was up, we told him about the missing wallet and the guy said he’d heard about that happening to six other people. I’d say it’s nice to know that this wasn’t an isolated incident, but knowing that multiple people have had stuff taken out of their lockers isn’t what I’d consider good news. We didn’t find anything in any of the nearby lockers, so we headed up to the front desk.
The guy working there asked a few questions, then took me back to the locker room again and we looked in all of them, but to no avail. The thief could have been nice enough to take my Visa card and the cash and dump the rest in the garbage, but nooooo, he had to make life difficult. Bastard…
Meanwhile, Brent called home and got my credit card number off a payment stub along with the customer service number. I got to make that phone call and have the card stopped, but it was too late—it had already been used twice. The person went out and bought himself gas… and pizza. Maybe stealing makes a man hungry, I dunno. Regardless, he wouldn’t be able to use it anymore and wouldn’t have much opportunity to go on a shopping spree with the ten bucks I had inside, either.
In retrospect, it’s pretty ironic how taking the contents of my wallet related to today’s events. The cash isn’t a big deal, but he used my credit card to buy gas—I had less than a quarter-tank and needed to fill up my own car. I ended up driving all over to replace other stuff that was taken, which meant I was driving without a license. I had my insurance card in there and my last activity of the day was a doctor’s appointment. And I think the worst part is that I got into the Y as Brent’s guest—the final item in my wallet was a membership card to Lifetime Fitness.
We called the police to make a report, during which time I was on the phone with the credit card people. I was trying to connect with the Fraud Prevention Department; the police said that a bunch of things had just fallen into their laps and they’d have someone there in about fifteen minutes. It was a race to see who would get there first, an operator or the cops. The operator won, but just barely–we finished talking just as two police officers walked through the door.
Brent and I told them about how we were working out that afternoon and we’d been there about 2 1/2 hours, there were only two charges made with the card, yadda yadda yadda… Not much they could do besides get everything written down for the time being, but they asked me to find out from Visa exactly which station the guy bought gas from to see if they could check the videos and pick out any potential suspects.
Speaking of all the phone calls, there was one blessing in disguise. I had been running a little late in getting to the Y, so Brent called me on my cell phone to find out where I was. I normally keep my phone in my front pants pocket since I generally don’t have any other place to put it (plus I keep it on vibrate, so when someone calls, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy in various places…). Even though I was only about five minutes away, I stuck the phone in my jacket pocket in case he called back. Had that been in my pants as well… that would have been shitty shit shittier or something…
Once that was all over, Brent and I headed over to Arby’s to grab some dinner (Guess who paid?). Then I got to drive home sans driver’s license; shortly after getting back, I headed out again to get an oil change sans driver’s license or credit card. Thankfully, the parents stopped by while I was there to pay for it, then took off again while I waited for the job to be done. And then I drove home again sans license. Funny how little plastic cards can have such a significant impact on our lives, isn’t it?
I was frustrated enough that I couldn’t motivate myself to write an entry last night beyond that “saying of the day” (I thought it up while chatting with a friend who’d recently gone through surgery, but yes, it’s widely applicable). Still, enough happened today to make it worth writing some more. (YAAAAY!! … Wait a sec… BOOOO!!)
The first thing I found out was that all I had to do to get a new driver’s license was head to the DMV—Mom said they’d know me from my picture in the system (it resembles me, except that my nicely highlighted hair was 1/4-inch stubble on my head). But first, I called the Fraud Prevention department again to get more information about the charges that had been made.
There was a code for the Holiday station (as opposed to a “specific location in Woodbury”) and then the pizza place (I think it was something like P’no’s Pizza). Anyway, the guy bought gas at 2:24 and pizza at 2:37 (the charges came into the company in reverse order, so it looked like he bought the pizza first… sheesh). Those times don’t mean anything initially, but when I glanced at the clock on the wall when the police came, it was about 3:00, so I’m pretty sure the guy saw me take off my sweaty clothes, then swiped my wallet while I was rinsing off in the shower. Bastard…
