We got hit.
Pepina and I, combined, have lived a good score or so years in places usually refered to as, “Don’t Go There”, or “Why Would You Live There?”, or “Where? You Crazy?” In fact, upon moving from Detroit to Colombia, we justified it by citing the Motown’s murder stats in comparison to Colombia’s. It was a wash.
Anyway, here we find ourselves tucked into tranquil Cuke County, home of good schools, high-fat foods, and a smile-and-a-how-do-you-do as the town motto. The police are at their busiest chasing our toilet paper or spray-paint lugging children, or escorting the local royalty, the DeSoap family. Everything the Family Suave wanted in order to raise our Li’l Pepinita in peace, neighborliness, and tasty but life-shortening food (the Red Hot Pickle has a three-for-one chili dog special on Mondays, two-for-one chiliburger on Tuesdays. The relish bar is stocked with real mayo and butter).
Well, last night Pepina’s Asian Express was broken into while we slept. Yep. We think the pickled perps were the Dark Side version of Barney Fife, ’cause they didn’t get the little rice burner, and they and/or their get-away vehicle sustained some damage, because the Asian Express, discovered in the middle of Roux Relish by our neighbor (El Indigeno, as he cradled his teething new born and sipped NyQuil), had its driver’s side door torn forward, crumpled into the quarter panel. Musta’ hurt.
Pepinoville’s Finest arrived toot-sweet, took a report, and were on their way to a garage break-in within minutes (garage break-ins are epidemic in Pepinoville. We are the Garage Break-in Capital of the World. Colombia doesn’t even come close).
The Asian Express sits forlornly in the P. Suave One Car Garage. Tomorrow Yours Truly will investigate how the years of premium payments, combined with zero claims history, will result in major frustrations for this auto owner.

Luchando por la justicia,

Pepino Sin Coche

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