Saturday, November 26, 2011

I Stole a Truck

Wednesday morning, 5:30 am. I've got swim class and some idiot has parked his truck behind me and two others in my apartment complex. I check all the windows in the complex to see if any lights are on, but there aren't any. I'm not quite gung ho about banging on people's doors at this hour.

I pull the handle of the old white truck and to my surprise, the door pulls open. When I check the ignition, there are no keys. This dashes my one-second hope of moving the truck to some faraway spot in the complex and letting the owner figure it out.

After five minutes of pacing through the complex, a neighbor walks out who jumps at the sight of me. "You scared me," he says. I apologize since it's still quite early and I'm dressed all in black. I explain the problem and ask if he would mind helping me push the truck out of the way.

I jump into the cab, push in the klutch, and shift it into neutral. He pushes me back a few feet. I leave a note in the guy's cab, and I'm off to swim class.

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