i used to play violin and i had an amazing teacher (who i didn’t appreciate enough at the time). she was from new zealand, which served to (1) make her so much more flippin’ adorable and (2) probably give her a foul taste of the states after the events i’ll discuss. it seemed, in addition to me not appreciating her, no one else did either. neither her students or colleagues. i’m still not sure why, i honestly think it was just a run of bad luck.
she practically lived at the school. she was either teaching class or holding private lessons or practicing or performing. since it was a second home, it really made sense that she felt comfortable leaving her beloved violin there. well, someone breaks into her office and steals it one night. and it broke her heart, a phrase which i don’t use that term lightly. it takes a special derangement for a person to become as attached to an inanimate object as she was (i.e. me and my bike).
the shittiest part of all this is that the resale value would be pretty low. the theif couldn’t sell it at a reputable dealer, since it was a relatively famous violin. the shitbag probably pawned it off somewhere. it’s shameful how some people can stomp on someone’s heart for a couple dollars
