Tugboat's Texas Trip - Day 4 cont'd

Things took a turn once we got to the parking lot. We approached the car chatting idly about where we could grab our nightcap, maybe the lobby? A sketchy little dude came up and asked us for our parking ticket, asking if he could have it. It was strange that Chef just handed it over to the guy without saying anything, I could see him looking at something. I went around the car and saw it. The back, driver's side window was smashed. He pressed the button and the interior lights came on revealing broken glass everywhere in the backseat of the car. The bags were gone. We popped the trunk and rushed around frantically trying to find our bags in or around the car. Frustrated swearing erupted. The sketchy dude sold our all-day parking ticket to a car entering the lot for a discounted price somewhere behind us. With minds racing, we started thinking of what had just happened. Chef's bag contained his passport, work laptop, personal phone with no pass-code, a large sum of cash, all his charging cords, a house key and various other personal items. The Tugboat's bag contained his passport, truck key, all his souvenirs, including the nice rodeo shirt, headphones his sister bought him, phone charger, his only pair of jeans, a sweater and jacket. The first two items being the most troubling, the other stuff was replaceable. The thief left the last bottle of Dr Pepper, Chef's neck pillow and all the car paperwork. We immediately struck off to find a police officer to report this crime to. The cop said to call 311. What is 311? We both tried dialling but it didn't work on our Canadian phones. Chef called 911, they told us to piss off and call 311. This is apparently the non-emergency version of 911. We eventually had to look up the Austin Police Department's ten digit phone number to get through. They said they'd have someone call us back to take our story in about an hour and that we should wait there until that happened. So we waited, and waited, and waited some more. It was very sweaty and uncomfortable. I eventually had to go to a bar to use the bathroom. Chef's phone that they were going to call was dying so when I got back from that he went to a 24hr convenience store to look for a phone cord. He got one but it hardly worked. He set about trying to mitigate the damage, changing all his passwords, cancelling his phone and sim card. Working with the credit card company. Starting the process with his work IT. We also took turns searching the surrounding area with hopes that they rifled the bags and tossed them. I checked in all the dumpsters in the area and came up with nothing. Hours had passed and still no word from the police. We were hot, tired, and angry. Actually we were both flooded with a large range of emotions, some confusing at times. When it got to be too much we'd walk around checking under cars and in dark corners. Another truck had been robbed as well. I talked to some volunteers that had been around all day to see if anyone saw anything. They hadn't but told me the other robbed vehicle also had out of town plates. Keep in mind we had OK plates on the rental. It feels like we were targeted, probably having bags or luggage. This was when the volunteer asked me if I believed in the power of prayer. I replied that I'd be willing to try anything to get our passports back. So I prayed with a bearded stranger in the middle of a dark parking lot at night, nothing happened. Next I approached a sketchy dude who I thought was the same one that took our ticket and asked if he'd seen anything. He said he didn't know what I was talking about. I told him I knew what his scam was and didn't care, only wondering if he'd seen anything while working the lot. He told me I was mistaken and walked away quickly. I also spoke with the attendant for the lot. That little weasel was hanging out somewhere else, his boss was in a nearby lot and hadn't heard any reports. They were more there to make sure you paid than to protect anything. I was very unhappy with their organization and let him know it. Three hours later the police phoned and took all our information and we reported everything we knew about the crime. They indicated that there was nothing further they could do and gave us the report number and a phone number to call in a week to check if anyone had been assigned to the case. That was it. Time to leave. As Chef was finishing the call he saw a homeless looking white dude emerge from the dark corner of the lot wearing a high visibility vest and approach a group of cars near the back of the lot. He noticed us sitting in the car and froze. He stood for a few seconds then took off running and hopped the fence and ran into the darkness. We suspect he was either part of what happened to us or was about to do it to someone else. Why didn't we chase him down?! It's Texas, is it worth potentially getting shot over? Or stabbed? I didn't think of that until later. I never saw this person at all, I was looking out toward the street. Chef didn't call out either as he was on the phone with police, to whom we could not prove anything about this mystery person. So we drove to the hotel, told the night manager, whom we'd met the night before. She looked like she was going to start crying. We told her because the car lacked a window and we planned to park it in their lot. She indicated that it gets patrolled but security and police and should be fine as long as they know it was broken before. Sleep didn't come as easy with the powderkeg of emotion brewing within us both. Anger, frustration, fear all milling around. We put on the TV and eventually fell asleep, minds swirling with thoughts about what kind of a mess we'd have to sort through in the morning.