Last night when I was leaving my apartment to wash some clothes, I
rounded the corner to the garage and nearly lost a pair of boxer shorts.
>From the darkness of my garage, I saw a figuire stand up from the
passenger side of my car. I was frozen for about 5 seconds: half of me
was waiting for the gun blast that would kill me and the other half was
ready to beat the bloddy hell out of the cretin that was in MY MGB
I suppose my presence startled him as well, for it was a few seconds
before either of us spoke. "Man", he pleaded, "I ain't stealing
nothing." I ordered him away from my car and into the driveway. I
quickly turned on the light to shed some light on the situation. "Man, I
ain't stealing nothing, I got plenty of money...", at which point he
shoved his hand in his pocket. "Get your hand out of your pocket!" was
the best I could muster. He complied, as well as pulling out a wad a
bills to show me he had plently of money and didn't want to steal
anything.
"Man, I ain't stealing nothing, some lawyer wants to buy your car and
sent me over to look at it. He wants to give you $3500 for it." I
likened his excuse to a pile of dog excrement and told him he should
probably be leaving. "Man, you can call him if you change your mind, I
ain't stealing nothing." At this point I escorted the punk off my
property and called the police.
Now I am even more angry. I have two alarms on the MGB, I left the
garage light on all night, and woke up every time a cat rubbed against
the side of my apartment. What a world.
Just one day closer to death,
Thomas James Pokrefke, III
1970 MGB
thomas_pokrefke@juno.com
http://ocean.st.usm.edu/~pokrefke
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