Houston consumed my car. During my lovely LA vacation, I received a call from my (confused) boyfriend, that my car was not parked where I had left it. Indeed, upon returning to Houston, I discovered that my car simply vanished from the street where it was parked. Sadness! I even walked up and down the street, to see if it had inexplicably "moved." No such luck.
Several city-contracted towing companies were rumored to have towed within the neighborhood, which hosted a street fair on the evening in question. They remain my primary suspects, though the city claims no car meeting mine's identification was ever "entered into the system." The city's representative in the towing department, who was certain there was no mistake, recommended I report my car stolen. So I did (I have since spoken with several people who have commented on the city's prowess at towing and losing cars).
A puzzling note: though I always found my 2003 Dodge Neon to be quite charming, there was positively no reason for anyone else to be fond of it. It couldn't be a terrific value on any black market; it is not a cool joy-ride; and there was absolutely nothing valuable in it. I hope it is not wallowing in a parking lot somewhere. I hope it did not fall into the hands of someone malicious or violent, or with poor personal hygiene.
Sadly, the reality of the situation is that I don't have a car, in Houston, where driving is regarded like breathing or going to the bathroom. I've been surviving on carpooling while investigating options like: public transportation! a neeew car! Questions about how I might minimize my impact on the yummy Houston air quality are streaming through my head, though the fruits of my investigations will wait for another post (wait, another post? that is like christmas). For now I lament the disappearance of my old, useful, dare I say cute, traveling implement.