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Something very similar happened to me once.
I was at a party in high school and got really drunk. When I woke up at my friends house the next morning I walked out to get my Jeep but it was gone. My parents filed a police report. Spent the better part of 4 hours that day driving around with my dad scouring the gravel roads in our rural area and finally we found it crashed at the bottom of a ravine. Asshole puked all over my steering wheel/dash and threw dozens of empty beer cans all over the place. The crash into the ravine totaled it.
I put on my detective hat and got to work. Since it was in a ravine with some fresh mud, I was able to find some footprints coming out of the vehicle. I thought it was odd that the thief had the same size of shoe as me and was even more surprised when the imprint/pattern left by the shoe was a perfect match to my own shoes that I was currently wearing.
As I began to connect the dots in my mind, I realized I knew exactly who stole my truck and crashed it: me.
As reality began to set in, I looked over at my dad, and realized that the dots were connecting in his mind too. We made eye contact, held it for a few seconds, and then he said in the most serious tone: “You stupid motherfucker. Get in the truck.”
We sat in silence as he drove me to the police station, where he made me tell the officer who took the police report the truth. The officer wrote out a ticket for MIP, left the signature line blank, folded it up, and put it in his wallet. Then he went to a cabinet to get a roll of orange trash bags. As he put them in my hands, he said “I’m going to take a drive down Highway 91 every Saturday morning for the next month. The first time I make that drive and don’t see your ass holding one of these bags on the side of the highway picking up trash, I will drive straight to your house to deliver this ticket.”
Needless to say, I spent every Saturday morning for the next 5 weeks picking up trash.
I was at a party in high school and got really drunk. When I woke up at my friends house the next morning I walked out to get my Jeep but it was gone. My parents filed a police report. Spent the better part of 4 hours that day driving around with my dad scouring the gravel roads in our rural area and finally we found it crashed at the bottom of a ravine. Asshole puked all over my steering wheel/dash and threw dozens of empty beer cans all over the place. The crash into the ravine totaled it.
I put on my detective hat and got to work. Since it was in a ravine with some fresh mud, I was able to find some footprints coming out of the vehicle. I thought it was odd that the thief had the same size of shoe as me and was even more surprised when the imprint/pattern left by the shoe was a perfect match to my own shoes that I was currently wearing.
As I began to connect the dots in my mind, I realized I knew exactly who stole my truck and crashed it: me.
As reality began to set in, I looked over at my dad, and realized that the dots were connecting in his mind too. We made eye contact, held it for a few seconds, and then he said in the most serious tone: “You stupid motherfucker. Get in the truck.”
We sat in silence as he drove me to the police station, where he made me tell the officer who took the police report the truth. The officer wrote out a ticket for MIP, left the signature line blank, folded it up, and put it in his wallet. Then he went to a cabinet to get a roll of orange trash bags. As he put them in my hands, he said “I’m going to take a drive down Highway 91 every Saturday morning for the next month. The first time I make that drive and don’t see your ass holding one of these bags on the side of the highway picking up trash, I will drive straight to your house to deliver this ticket.”
Needless to say, I spent every Saturday morning for the next 5 weeks picking up trash.
