where was my lucky glow in the dark coke dealer when i needed him?

sometimes drinking whiskey in the morning can be a good thing. for instance, when you walk out of your apartment to find the passenger window of your car smashed into a thousand tiny jagged pieces of "safety glass."
what was taken? a cd player, a knife, and maybe something else that i haven't noticed (and maybe never will).
what the douche nozzle missed?
$30 in change,
a pair of bonoculars worth well over $100,
a 300 CD book,
the radio,
my lucky glow in the coke dealer figurine glued to the dashboard (apparently a patron saint of driving in argentina?).
i don't think the figurine is as lucky to me anymore.
anyway, the asshole also did not get on my nerves...maybe later it bothered me (definitely later it bothered me), but i'd had a few sips of jameson's before leaving the house, and somehow my buzz trumped the reality of the immediate moment. i laughed incredulously. i laughed at myself for having a car in san francisco. i wasn't surprised or angry. the whiskey was a padding, but maybe i'd been gearing up for this moment. either way, it happened, and thank the powers that be for a good buzz to hold my optimism in what sober might've ruined my day. also thanks to my friends for getting me high later when they found out about it.