How To Steal A Car (A Not-To Guide) (The Sequel)

Where was I? Oh yes, in downtown D.C., frantically searching for my car keys.

Digging, digging, digging.

Nope, no keys.

I realized I must have first put them in my camera bag, before deciding to leave my camera bag in the car.

Lindsey and I looked at each other. Then we looked at Daniel and his “friend.”

By then I’d determined his “friend” was actually his “date.”

But that’s another story.

Then we all looked at each other. And we laughed.

Then we decided to break into my car.

We searched, but there isn’t an app for that. We were able to find an eHow article.

But it said we’d need a coat hanger. Sadly I’d left mine at home that night.

I ran a few blocks to Allison’s apartment, knowing while she was in New York for the weekend maybe one of her roommates would let us filch her belongings.

Along the way I passed a jogger.

Tilting my head sharply, I indicated our shared bond of running. While my distance spanned only a block and a half, I felt we understood each other.

I ran up to Allison’s door, and after taking a moment to catch my breath, rang the bell.

That block and a half really takes it out of you.

Nobody answered.

So I rang again. And again. And again. Ensuring that if someone was just ignoring me, at least they suffered for it.

Looking around, I hoped to find they’d left a coat hanger on their front patio. There was a hose. And if I could improvise a screwdriver, a long piece of metal holding their gutter to the wall that might work. Lifting the trash can lid, I took one sniff and decided not to investigate the trash further.

So I dejectedly walked back to the car, trying to decide if I was willing to break a window.

Pros of breaking car window: Making the midnight showing of the movie on time. Not having to abandon my car in the city. A fairly awesome story.

Cons of breaking car window: Broken glass. Not feeling safe parking my gaping wide-open car anywhere. The shame if I was unable to break the window after I decided to try. Accidentally getting arrested for grand theft auto, as the car isn’t registered in my name.

While I have always been intrigued by the idea of getting arrested, I’d rather it happen in easily remedied situations, preferably during daylight hours.

I’m not scared of night prison.

I’m just healthily wary.

Okay, okay, I’m scared of night prison.

We all have our demons.

Once breaking into my car was out, the options became either taking the metro to go see the movie, then coming back later and figuring out the car and hoping someone would return to Allison’s apartment to let us sleep or calling my dad and praying I’d left a set of car keys at his house.

I opted for calling my dad.

Without questioning or complaining, he asked for directions and drove into the city to bring them to me.

My friends waited with me at the bar down the street – the bar which earlier that night they’d called overpriced and poorly serviced – so I wouldn’t wait alone.

So I guess my quite unfortunate night was actually quite lucky.

That is, until we saw the movie.

And I bought a gigantic box of Junior Mints to calm my nerves.

Junior Mints are the Valium of candy.

I think I heard that in an ad once.

Though I was unaware of it happening, at some point I must have dropped a Junior Mint.

Or two. Or five.

Because halfway through the movie, I reached into my lap and felt this.