Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Killing Me Softly

on September 28, 2016


Friday evening, when I got home from work, I was happy that the parking spot next to Breezy was open. I put Lil Bear in his place, grabbed my things and went inside to make dinner.

A friend was coming over at 7pm to eat with us and then give us massages. Because he hadn’t yet been to my new apartment (which I haven’t even told you about yet!), I met him out in the parking lot. I leaned on Lil Bear while I waited for our friend’s arrival.

We ate yummy food together; had our massages… It was a lovely evening.

When our friend left at 10:30, I walked him out and Lil Bear was still in his spot.

Saturday morning Thing #1 and I had our coffee, then set out to get shit done. We still had a bunch of unpacking to do and food to buy and household items… I had a date with Mr. Nice Guy that evening… It was scheduled to be a busy day.

On our way out to the car, Thing #1 said, “You want to take Breezy today?”

“Yeah, sure.” I answered, “Why not? We’ve been driving Lil Bear everywhere, and he’s taking us to Dallas next Friday. Let’s give him a break.”

I can’t really describe how I felt when I walked out to the parking lot and saw an empty spot where my beautiful car should have been.

Breezy was there, all fine and dandy. But the spot right next to him was empty – only a couple of twigs… Not even any broken glass…

My brain completely emptied of every thought I have ever had (or would be having for at least 3 more hours) and I just stood there, staring at the empty spot.


Eventually, when I could speak, all that came out was, “Where’s Lil Bear? My car should be here… Where’s my baby?” over and over and over again.

I hadn’t yet started to cry. The gravity of the situation had me shocked into oblivion.

“Mom, are you sure this is where you parked it?”

“Yeah, babe. I remember being happy that the spot next to Breezy was open when I got home.”

“Did you ‘beep’ him?” (meaning, did I lock it?)

“Yes. I put the keys in my purse, grabbed my things to bring inside and made sure to lock the door manually before I closed it. He beeped then.”

When I was able to remember how to walk again, we circled the parking lot to reassure ourselves that I hadn’t woken up and moved the car unconsciously in my sleep (or Lil Bear hadn’t just spontaneously moved himself – hahah!).

He was nowhere.

Before completely freaking out, I stopped by the apartment office to see if any cars had been towed during the night/early morning. I mean, maybe he slipped out of gear and rolled out of his spot or something totally stupid like that.

No such “luck”.

Oddly enough, after that, the first person I called was my ex-husband… My first week away from him and I have to call him and tell him this bullshit? While I bawl my eyes out and sputter incoherently?

Awesome. (not)

He helped calm me down; told me that it was probably Mick and to call the police.

I called 911 and, about 2 hours later, an officer arrived at my apartment.

By this time, I had texted every single other person that I knew might give a shit and told them what happened. The 3 friends I have who know about Mick told me that it was most likely him.

Incidentally, I have not had any contact with him since I told him to stop communicating with me on September 4th. However, since then, he has sent me 4 hateful emails and another, nicer one for a birthday wish two weeks ago (it simply said, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” in the subject line).

I explained everything to the officer: breaking up with “Mick”, the horrid emails he sent to me after I asked him to stop, the fact that “Mick” is an awesome mechanic and could have taken my car very easily… I was told that nothing could be done about any of that because none of it was threatening and he never mentioned he would steal my car *sigh*. However, he took “Mick’s” information down anyway and told me he would call and ask him if he took my car.

At that point it was tough not to roll my eyes. I mean, really?? If I stole a car and the police confronted me about it, I would most surely lie my pants off. I even said as much to the policeman.

Mr. Nice Guy volunteered to stop by for a little while after the officer left. And, guess what?!?!? On his way to my place, he stopped off at the shoe store and bought me a pair of replacement fuck-me shoes!! As he handed them to me he said, “I know they aren’t the same as having your car back, Sweetie. But it’s something I can do for you and something I can replace for you.”

Oh my goodness! How sweet, right?!?!

The rest of the weekend passed without incident. Late Saturday afternoon we finally ventured out to the store and bought a little of what we needed; Sunday came and went with joy over the awesome Broncos win, and sadness over my lost and, possibly probably, dead car.

Monday morning I walked to work. Mostly because I live so much closer now, but also because I (still) don’t know if my Breezy is safe to drive!

Monday afternoon I drafted an email to “Mick”, but I did not send it. All I wanted to say was:

My car was stolen

Instead, Monday evening I received another email from Mick. (Which leads me to believe that the policeman actually did call and ask about my Subaru.)

But that email did not come directly from him. It came from a purported ex-lover of his who, apparently, cares about him very much.
(Ummm… it came from him… it was definitely written carefully, but there are nuances)


I am now 99% sure that James L. Gaddis (DOB – 5/7/1957, aka: “Mick”) stole my Lil Bear. And now I really am actually worried for my safety (and my daughters’).

The police know about that letter. I called about it right away on Monday night and asked them to add it to my “case file”, but I was told they couldn’t follow-up on it because it “comes from someone else” and, nowhere in the letter does it state he will hurt me or that he took possession of my vehicle. (But they did acknowledge the note probably was from Jim/”Mick”)

A detective has not been assigned.

I can provide *you lovely readers* with a little more information should you want it (perhaps) to find him and beat him the hell up and/or teach him a lesson.

His Sons of the American Legion squadron’s monthly meeting is at 11AM this coming Saturday in Aurora; I would gladly provide you more information regarding that as well… (and I’m only kinda kidding. Haha…)

I am also 99% sure that Jim/”Mick” and his friend Bruce (who has a home garage where Jim/”Mick” and I did all the work on Lil Bear) have taken every last salvageable piece of my car and sold it to the highest (or lowest) bidder. The seats were in great condition, the engine ran awesomely, aluminum gets a good price for scrap…

I mean, he has almost a thousand dollars of lost mechanic labor he obviously feels I owe him…


8 responses to “Killing Me Softly

  1. oceanswater says:

    How very sad and scary…

  2. BallsyBilly says:

    That’s some crazy S..T! That email even crazier!
    If I could, I would. Just to far away way. Ya know?
    F those slugs

  3. I am sad after reading this. But the Universe has some weird ways of levelling things. So when he gets his, he will understand the pain. In a way, I am glad you and your daughter are safe. I am not attempting to console you, but, I do hope you feel better soon and all of this is a thing of past…Take care Smitten.

    Immense love and good wishes,

Talk to me :-)

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