The Blogpatch

The police found Roxy last Tuesday! Funnily enough, the auto compound where she was towed is just down the street from my house in the Dogpatch, so I got to explore one of the old areas in the defunct port. Who knew that “car prison,” as the guard at the heavily fortified entrance to the yard called it, was literally two blocks away. They’ve repurposed a group of old brick factories right on the water, and now cars that have been towed, stolen and recovered and in accidents are moved around a giant lot by forklifts and tow trucks like a giant game of Tetris.

As I waited nervously for Roxy to be delivered, uncertain of her condition, a roasted car with its paint melted off and doors missing was unceremoniously dropped off. But happily, Roxy was delivered with all doors in place and drivable off the lot. She’s generally ok, tho’ she does have a bunch of scrapes, some dents and bashes, and gouged metal at the passenger door handle and gas cap. Her new radio was stolen, ignition ripped out and replaced with one that can be started with a screwdriver (now I know how to hot-wire a car). But it is all fixable. And at least she’s back.

Oh woe is me. My dream car, by little hot-rod, my reason to smile every morning on the way to work–Roxy– was stolen last night. We had such a short time together.

Apparently, the police recover 95% of stolen vehicles, but often not in an operational state. And the parts for 280Zs are highly desirable and very expensive, so I fear she will have been stripped even if we find her. Oh, I am so entirely bummed about this. Not a good week. Not a good month really.

Let’s remember her in her glory days: