Where's Batman When You Need Him?

I went out to my car tonight to find out that my driver's side lock was busted and my stereo and cell phone were taken. (The phone sits unused in my glove compartment until I remember to throw it into my bookbag.)

After rushing to the liquor store for a box of Schlitz to help console me, I returned home and went online to look at my cell phone activity. The stupid fucker or fuckers had used my phone to call numbers in Blaine and Anoka. I called my cell phone service and suspended my account until I get a new phone. Then I printed off the online detail and drove it over to the 5th Precint HQ pronto, figuring I had the evidence in hand to break this case wide open.

I was hoping to be escorted to the desk of a wise-cracking Minneapolis version of Lennie Brisco, who would commend me for my amateur-yet-effective gumshoe work. But the officer behind the desk dismissed my evidence as not being able to help - he said if they called the numbers, the call-receivers would just claim the criminals had called the wrong number. Then he gave me an automated phone number to call to report my incident. He was a nice guy; but at least he could have faked it, taken my printout, said it was a "good lead," and then laughed about it with the boys at Dulono's when his shift was over.

What is truly going to suck is being without a car radio or CD player until I get things sorted out with my insurance people. So if you're in South Minneapolis and you hear a man in a black Chevy Cavalier singing Van Halen tunes to himself, please honk and wave hi.