Litany of Misdeeds Continued!

It's been kind of a funny week.
I generally like to be liked by people. That may be some sort of weakness or some sort of charity, I'm not really sure. And all the time I spent being an official for BYU intramurals and being a missionary for the church should have hardened me against lesser minds speaking greater evils, but it's been so long since either of those occupations that perhaps I've gotten unused to being disliked.
So when I get in trouble with one of the lawyers at work, I won't lie, it made my day a bit longer. I felt like a big softy, not having the hard outer shell that could easily withstand the beratings (that may not be a word) of some such lower organism (i.e., the lawyer). What happened, you ask? I took an early lunch break and cost them about 20 minutes, which is actually a HUGE mistake on my part. As they say "You live you learn" to try and make people feel better about their mistakes... what if I didn't learn anything? I know it's a bad thing to make the lawyers wait, and I just made an oopsie. I suppose I will take further precautions in the future to make sure that when they say "lunch" they mean "lunch". Also, "lunch" is one of my all-time least favorite words in the English language along with "tasty" and "yummy". I HATE those words, which is ironic because I love food more than most people.
On Tuesday, there was no basketball after institute. One of the teachers even walked behind me and said "You don't get to play basketball tonight, neener neener neener!" Grown-ups these days... they hurt my heart. Also, my sedentary life hurts my heart. That's why I need basketball so much...
To top it all off, today I got to play hard-ball with a really anal detective from Logansville--which happens to be a city I've never been to. Hour trip? Sure, why not. Let me tell you the reason I thought I was going first of all, but sit down cause it starts much earlier.
There is a guy in my ward that I've had some interactions with that we will call "Colliver". Now, Mr. Colliver seemed to be a bit misunderstood by his fellow YSA's. I do well with misunderstood people, so I volunteered to help him split wood last week, which may have been the most manual labor I've done in one day all year. I've hung out with him in a group setting twice before as well. So here comes the moral of the story as well as a spoiler alert: Don't let marginal acquaintances borrow your car without you in it!
At the big regional conference that happened last weekend in Lilburn, I passed by him and he asked to borrow my car. What was I going to say at a church gathering... no? I was a bit hesitant, but I decided to trust him, I guess. He was supposed to be taking it to close on a deal for a minivan at a place right in the area. I wondered how he had gotten to the conference in the first place, but I guess I just figured some family member dropped him off. Anyways, he took longer than I thought, which bothered me a bit. I kept texting him (even in the middle of the dance) and asking where he was with my keys. He gave some vague responses, but he did come back with my keys. He borrowed them again later that night because he said he needed something from my car. He was gone again for longer than I expected, but again he did return with my keys and I ended up giving him and one other friend a ride home.
Do you see where this is going?
I didn't think much of the meeting I had with the police officers the next day except for the fact that Mr. Colliver had possibly committed a felony while out in my car. I told those two officers everything I knew, and I figured that it was all done and behind me. Apparently a car had been stolen and my marginal acquaintance was being accused. He denied it and apologized for getting me involved.
I figured I build some street cred just by meeting with officers. Three days later, when I was called by some randumb police officer in Logansville to meet him at his office, I wasn't too bothered until I realized that Logansville was an hour away and I hadn't eaten anything for the last six hours.
He sat me down in a tiny little room with a camera and told me to leave my electronic devices outside. I was pretty sure I was just there to regurgitate what I had already told the officers on Sunday, and I did so in the span of about five minutes. Fifty-five minutes later, after arguing like a child with this man and denying some pretty shaky claims involving me specifically, I was rather upset and ready to give him a reason to really interrogate me, Detective DumbAce. Sorry about that... but I REALLY didn't like this guy. I mean, I know he was badgering me and calling me a liar for an hour because it was his job to try and get a confession if there was a confession to be gotten, but this was a direct quote from him at the end of my interrogation: "I pray to God that you are convicted." He used the whole "pray" thing because a lot of the conversation revolved around religion, what with my acquaintance with Mr. Colliver and the whole incident of supposed car theft taking place at a church event. Ironic, no?
It seems I was reported as being in the stolen vehicle at 3 AM Monday morning, and I was also reported looking into the vehicle Saturday night very suspicious like. The former claim was made by some 18 year old girl IN MY WARD and the second claim was very vague... I think he mentioned a "Mr. Man." Haha!
Seriously though, where did those claims come from? It really shook me that something so outrageous had been levelled against me, so the visible signs of my unease I'm sure gave Detective DipSnot some confidence in bullying me around. But I wonder if the girl saw something--at 3 AM in the morning--and just assumed it was me due to my associations with Mr. Colliver the night of the theft. Or perhaps Colliver had an accomplice that looked kind of like me--it was dark on both occasions that I was allegedly spotted. Perhaps the fact that Mr. Colliver took my car that I was seen driving in played some factor into it. But this detective D-Bag was totally going off of these testimonies to the point that my own was apparently invalid. And where was Mr. Colliver during all this? Who knows... And why am I only being questioned now, three days later?
As I sat in that room, so many worst case scenarios went through my head... what if I was setup? Maybe a vindictive teenager who got bored with life or perhaps con-man who preys on Mormons. Either way, I started picturing myself as Edmon Dantes or Andy Duphrain... I'm sure even some Clyde Shelton snuck in there. I picked out a prison name too... Diamondback!!! I would get a Diamondback tattoo as well, and put it maybe on my back... cause it's a Diamondback, right?
So maybe later this week, I'll go give them a DNA sample and fingerprints and stuff. Big deal. What's another trip to 30-miles-away Logansville, right? *grinding teeth*

Reason for graduating from bachelorhood number 95: You would have somebody to vouch for you at 3 AM Monday morning.