Turn the other cheek...and they'll slap it, too

I love my mother, but sometimes I wish she had raised me to be less polite and more of a bitch. I am hard-wired by decades of home training to smile and eat sh*t politely, with a knife and fork, when what I really want to do is go nuclear on some cretin that absolutely deserves it.

Currently the cretin in question is a sour, lazy, useless lump of flesh that works as the evening parking man at my office garage. He has been giving me a hard time since he came to work there, one week ago. Every day, it's something. Argued with me about getting me my keys, parked my car half in a space so the back end was hanging out in traffic and primed to get hit, left my car keys on the front counter where anyone could have grabbed they instead of putting them in the key safe where they belong. I don't know why he even has a job. But today was the cherry on the sundae. I go get my keys, come back and find that my car is...you guessed it...unlocked. Greeeaat! I turn around to have a word with the idiot, and find that he is abandoning his post at top speed, running out of the garage and down the street. I noticed my gym bag has been moved, so I reach inside and lo and behold my mp3 player case is missing. My 150 dollar mp3 player that my MOTHER BOUGHT ME, YOU ASSHOLE.

I will spend half my night looking for it. I will look absolutely every possible where it could even remotely be. But I will not find it. Because I know that it was in my gym bag this morning, just as sure as I know that it is not there now. Just as sure as I know my car was locked when I left it this morning, and wasn't locked when I found it this evening. And as sure as I know that my little mp3 player did not suddenly sprout legs and sentience and decide to hightail it for the border, I know that that grimy little pissant stole it.