My Dearest Asshat,
Hey, how are you? Hope your days are sunny and full of puppies or whatever the hell. My name is Andres, an adventurous and compassionate dummy that owned the Jeep whose rear view mirror you stole the other night. It was quite strange, I must say, coming to my car and noticing that something was awry with my truck (or SUV, if it pleases you). My head was high, belly full of Korean BBQ, and I was looking forward to staring at pictures of cats and watching Jingle All The Way for the 37th time when I stopped in my tracks, seeing the mount twisted around and the wires hanging low. As any normal person would, I immediately inspected the surrounding street area, thinking that someone had simply clipped the poor vehicle. I began searching for the pieces that I assumed had broken off, coming to the conclusion that there were none. Upon a closer analysis, I realized the the mount and inner pieces of the mount itself were still intact, the wires gently pulled out with care and the casing that protected it were still in their rightful places. Just the mirror was gone. Wow.
Also, the back cover fell off later. Not your best lift, I must admit.
As I drove home, though, constantly checking a mirror that no longer existed in it's destined place upon my Jeep, most of my anger turned to curiosity and wonderment. Such a specific thing to illegally appropriate from another human being, and so out of the way from the other possible things that could be stolen. What you could possibly want or need my little mirror for? What purpose would it serve you? I mean, surely someone with a rational mind and normal sensitivity to the color urple* would just conclude you either did it as a fun prank, or took it to replace the mirror formerly found on your Jeep, itself possibly stolen by someone who needed one as well, continuing the infinite cycle. Instead, my mind went rampant with bevy of strange conclusions that you must have needed it for. Here were some of my favorites:
- You had a friend that is most definitely a vampire, possibly a pirate vampire because that sounds like even more fun, and you wanted to prove it to him. So you took the mirror off to show him his lack of reflection, and simply forgot to return the mirror to itself rightful mount.
- You've created some type of Rube Goldberg machine, and needed something to reflect light that activates a solar panel, which in turn powers a car filled with kittens that drives itself directly into a furnace, because you hate joy and soft things.
- You wanted to make a set of those that lets you see up skirts and what not, but you only had one mirror you stole from a 2005 Volkswagen Jetta and you were just thinking about how badly you needed those shoes as you were passing my SUV.
- You have a bad case of Mechanophilia, and my mirrors just happen to be the Scarlett Johanssons of car parts.
Or, you could just simply be a dick. I mean, what do I know in the end of all this? We never got to meet, maybe have a beer, discuss mirrors and the reasons we take them, etc. And, to be honest, that saddens me. I love meeting interesting people and doing interesting things, and you seem to be a person (man, woman, or Cylon) who seems to have both going for them, so I've clearly missed the opportunity to make a new BFF. Just as life goes on after break-ups and eating the Vermonster Challenge at your Local Ben & Jerry's dealer, though, so will I, a sense of wonder tucked into the back of my mind.
At the end of it all, I just hope that the mirror has gone to a good place, somewhere where it will be appreciated for it's strong virtues and it's uncanny ability to notify people that "objects are closer than they appear." That was my favorite part about it. Just make sure to wash it regularly, wipe it down, and check it to make sure no one is coming up in your blind spot while changing lanes to the left. It what it was made for. Oh, and finally: