I used to be a recalcitrant kid, a regular scalawag. My cousins hid their toys on the days I visited them. I always found them and then pulled them apart.
Twenty years later, not much has changed, now I'm just pulling apart real cars. Yup, locked my key in the boot and thanks to some genius in the Ford creative department who decided to skip the boot catch inside the car, I was in a fix. After literally yanking the seats out and unceremoniously pulling the back support out, I felt my way around the boot and managed to get the keys out.
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Three years ago, on Christmas day, a bunch of us were walking back from lunch at a friend's place when we spotted a guy trying to break into a car. He told us it was his car and the keys were still in the ignition. I used some creative imagination and got into his car. As the guy drove off into the sunset, I was left wondering if I made his Christmas or just helped ruin someone else's.
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My ex-housemate related a most bizarre story. Fred* and his pal were out on New Year's Eve, getting stoned. On the drive back home, the voice of reason took over and they pulled into the emergency lane of the freeway and decided to sleep off the after-effects of the previous night. Very early in the morning, someone knocked on the window and asked them for their licenses. Fred and pal took out their wallets and handed them over to the cop. He walked back to his car. Fred and pal waited for ten minutes, the guy never came back. He wasn't even a cop! They then had to drive to the police station to register a complaint... still stoned.
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Something's changed. I enjoyed putting my car back more than I did pulling it apart.
Six boiled eggs, 4 croissants, 2 Berliners, 2 Idlis with chutney for breakfast and coffee's on its way. How did I ever get so hungry?
