Justin Bieber. I have no idea who this person is. Seriously. No concept. Is he a type of toaster? One of Madoff's co-conspirators? A character in the popular comic strip Get Fuzzy? Is he the secret revealed in the final episode of Lost? More importantly, is he the secret to why people actually watch Lost? I really couldn't tell you. And, moreover, I'm perfectly comfortable not knowing. I like a mystery in my life. Though of course, there are instances when your ignorance can screw you...
Take, for example, major holidays. I sort of always forget that they, well, exist. Now, as a follower of the protocols of Zion, I think I can be forgiven for being occasionally caught off guard by infant birthdays, resurrection parties and hunger fasts. But the fact that I can't keep national holidays together means that at best I'm a space cadet and, at worst, I'm letting the terrorists win.
So, while other people are, I'm assuming, running around at backyard barbecues or auditioning for this season of The Jersey Shore, I myself had a fairly typical Monday, showing apartments, attending my pilates class, returning some emails, watch three guys try to steal a car...Oh, is that last one not typical where you live? The things you miss out on if you aren't existing in this beautiful city. You see, this morning when I went to show a property I was greeted by the most interesting sight. Three men were peering into the windows of a large car, leaning up against it like a sailor in a brothel, and generally putting the sketch in sketchtacular. As I locked up my bike and sat on the front steps of the building, one of the men approached me.
"Excuse me, Miss, do you have a hanger?", he said.
" A what?" quoth I, completely perturbed.
"A wire hanger. We need one", he said.
Resisting the urge to make the obvious Joan Crawford reference, I politely informed him that I don't typically bike around the city of Struggledelphia with hangers in my bag, but that I would start doing so in the future, just to be better prepared. To give to strange men. To help them steal cars. As one does.
It was just around this moment when the fact that today is a holiday crept back into my head. I sighed as I watched the three co-conspirators attempt to break open the car door as I waited for my prospective tenants to come see the place. I have to start keeping better track of time, I thought. That, or learn how to bike with a hanger handy. As I biked away, I couldn't help but wish those three men luck. After all, it is a holiday. Maybe they just wanted something to celebrate. As for me, now that I've finally remembered this day is special, I may just have to reward myself with a nice, strong, way-to-resist-the-urge-to-commit-a-felony drink. At the very least, it's a celebration of the fact that they didn't give up on the car and go for my bike. Celebrate the victories, right? Isn't that what this holiday is all about?
Happy Memorial day, my little struggles! And remember, if you want a car stolen, don't forget to bring all the appropriate tools. If my story proves anything, it's that you really can't depend on the kindness of strangers, at least when it comes to hangers. Consider that your free life lesson for the day.