So, there I was, one Friday night, all set to go out for the evening. I threw my gear in the trunk, opened the driver side door and… discovered that I no longer had a passenger side window. Well, okay, I did have one, but it was no longer a one piece ensemble.
They say that when bad things happen, time seems to slows down, and that later you can clearly remember what your thoughts were at the time. I can attest that this is true. My exact thoughts were:
Apparently, a would-be car thief had stopped by the night before and attempted to make off with my little Tiburon. Little did he know that all Tiburons come equipped with a unique theft deterrent called Exploding Windows 2000 (not to be confused with the computer productivity deterrent, Crashing Windows 2000).
The EW2K, which activates as soon as someone tries to jimmy open your door, will immediately cause the door window to shatter into no fewer than 2,487,985 pieces. The most amazing feature of this system is that one meter squared of glass will redistribute itself over a 45 meter area, with some stray pieces traveling as far as the corner variety store.
How does this deter thieves, you ask? The glass pieces travel at a high enough speed to embed themselves in the car seats, the steering wheel, the paint job, and with any luck, the thief himself. Indeed, there were so many bits of glass in the driver’s seat that the only way anyone could drive away with the car was if they’d come equipped with steel undershorts and butt plate armor.
My neighbours and friends were all very sympathetic, and, being Canadians, unanimously recommended the same solution: duct tape. I’m not sure whether that was recommended as a temporary car fix, or as something to apply to the thief once he’s been caught. Personally, I’d like to try the latter, as I’ve heard duct tape is good for removing body hair quickly and painfully. I’m sure that the other four families on my street that were vandalized that same night would like to help.
In any case, in situations like this, you often wonder why people — and in particular the teenager suspected of this crime — do this sort of thing. I live in a nice town, with good families. There are no bad neighbourhoods and these kinds of crimes are rare. I know many of you will immediately point to the video game industry as a bad influence. But I disagree: if this guy had actually played something like Grand Theft Auto III, he’d be a much better car thief.
You also wonder, as you’re picking glass bits out of your cup holder, just what you’d say to the thief if you had a chance to confront them. Several things come to mind:
1. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to clean up after an attempted car theft?
2. You never made it past the second level of that car theft game, did you?
3. Are you even old enough to reach the pedals?
4. Isn’t there a uniform at a burger joint with your name on it?
5. Where would you like to try the duct tape first?
6. Never mind. Let’s try the ‘bikini area’ first.
Sadly though, the next person I’ll be talking to is the insurance adjuster and the body shop. Because they will have to do things like open up the door frame and clear glass bits out of the air vents, I know the bill will come to roughly: $35,000. I do have insurance of course, but since my premiums will go up, all that means is that I’ll pay off the damage over the long term.
With that in mind, I’m tempted to just leave the glass bits in the air vents, put the car back in the driveway, and crank the air conditioning controls on full. This is so the thief can actually steal the car, but not without receiving another blast of glass bits in his bikini area. Meanwhile, I could go upgrade to the latestTiburon.
It’s got tinted Exploding Windows.