I don’t know if it’s the heat, an ancient genetic inheritance awakening in me, or some unholy amalgamation of the two, but these days I usually wake up between 4:00 and 4:30 a.m.
Today, I slept in. At around 5:00, I got a few notifications on my phone, looked at them, thought about getting up, and promptly fell back asleep. At 5:10 I came to.
I checked the notifications, and saw this:
That’s my patio, and my electric scooter.
That is not me walking away with my scooter.
By 5:13 I was on the street, cursing precisely and searching widely.
By 5:18 I was inside my apartment, putting a load of laundry in the washing machine.
By 5:30 I had called the police, walked down the street to get a cup of coffee, and returned to my building.
An officer (call him Aaron) was on-site already. I know him, at least as far as you can know other regular travelers of the early hours.
I showed him my scooter leaving with a man who looked remarkedly unlike I do. “Where in the building is this?” he asked.
I led him to the third floor, slowing my pace halfway up a half-flight. I apologized for bounding up the stairs. I am not used to showing people to my home at this time of day.
After a brief scan of the scene, Aaron asked: “Do you want him to go to jail?”
I paused, ever so slightly, to review the facts:
- I would never see my scooter again
- Insurance might not cover anything without a report
- I don’t like burglars in my neighborhood
I replied: “sure!”
We reviewed the footage, estimating gender, height, weight, and age. We conjured descriptions of clothing and demeanor.
Times were noted; notes were taken.
Another question from Aaron: “Can you airdrop those videos to me?“
Another pause, this time from unexpected… whimsy?
I was square in the intersection of two things I would not commonly consider coexisting (AirDrop & police reports?!), but I instantly appreciated their obvious juncture.
Lighthearted inspiration followed – What other combinations were heretofore hidden?! What could…
I snapped back to the moment, and replied: “Yeah, of course!”
The rest of the paperwork concluded quickly, with emphasis on one piece of statutory significance: burglary requires four walls and a roof. (We have those here, thankfully.)
I walked Aaron downstairs, then began another walk to wait out the load of blacks and blues tumbling towards a cleaner and more comfortable future.
By the time I got back, I was angry again. I texted a couple of people, this time sharing the video through more familiar methods.
An exchange followed:
I took a moment to compose my brain. And then:
Though I have stated my beliefs about karma openly for years, it has been a long time since I have given similar voice to my reasons.
And, while I feel like this particular articulation was sufficient for a pre-7:00 a.m. text, it’s time to refine my reasoning. The structure is solid; the details sufficient – but an update is necessary.
Wherever you find yourself as I finish here, I encourage you to consider *your* relationship with karma, too.
Intersection 9 