Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes-Benz

I bought a new Mercedes Friday night. I had that new Mercedes stolen less than two hours later.

It was a silver convertible—a two-seater. It would have gotten really great gas mileage, and I only paid $425 for it.

Maybe I should back up. The car in question was a “Baby Benz”—a toy car that I pictured Amy’s curly head sticking out of the top of. I thought would make a great Christmas present when I made my first bid for it at a silent auction charity event we attended on Friday.

I normally don’t spend that much money on auction items, nor do I usually have in interest in anything offered. I find myself making a choice between paying over $100 for a fifty dollar gift certificate to a restaurant I’ve never heard of, or tickets to the Monday matinee of “Oklahoma” at the condemned community theater. “But it’s for a good cause,” I say to appease myself.

The Mercedes was a popular item. More than a few put their name down throughout the evening, and I had to stand sentry several times in increments of $25.

After a few passes of the mini beef Wellingtons trays, my friend put down my name one last time before the bidding was closed, and the Mercedes was mine! Or Amy’s, actually. But it was for a good cause.

I happily plopped my credit card down to purchase the item I had won. Sean helpfully reminded me that the very act of swiping the Amex meant I didn’t “win,” I “bought.”

But it’s for a good cause.

During dinner, we watched a heart-wrenching video about pediatric cancer patients—the cause we were there to support. It really does make you thankful for the blessing of good health when you think about how many who aren’t as lucky. The live auction commenced over Key Lime pie, and Sean held my hand under the table—not out of affection, but to hold my paddle down. We escaped a bidding war for an abstract of John Lennon that went for 20K. My $425 Mercedes was beginning to look like the bargain of the century.

Unfortunately for me, the options on the Baby Benz included a sippy cup holder in place of a Lojack. Because when I went to retrieve the paid car with a receipt, panic overtook the auction staff. It could not be found.

After a brief investigation, it turns out some bitch unabashedly carjacked my Benz. Walked out with assistance, had valet load it into her Benz; knowing full well the entire time that not only did she not pay for it, but she was stealing from kids with cancer.

There is a special place in hell for people like that.

And I don't even feel bad about damning someone there because it's for a good cause.