so if you're lonely you know i'm here waiting for you

emily and i jam the coat hangers we're brandishing silmultaneously into the doors of melissa's cars.

"see?" pipes up the vox. "this is when you need to have some sort of bad-seed cousin who used to steal cars, because then unlocking the door and getting the keys out would be easier." i don't respond. i'm trying to concentrate. but it continues. "c'mon, it cannot be that difficult. after all, nicholas cage made it look so easy in 'gone in sixty seconds.'"

in the hustle and bustle of the day, melissa managed to have a blonde moment and di indeed lock her keys in the car. instead of being responsible, emily and melissa and i just left it, figuring that emily's dad could break into it for us later.

sadly, he didn't.

and when we arrived home- after seeing the play, spying on some poncy git named dave who was all stuck up about his picture being taken, drinking german white wine and merlot, talking to some guys who were all about slash metal and whose friend was a virgin, avoding the eyes of some narsty old dude who was buying all the young girls drinks and looking down their shirts, and having evaded come-ons by hookers who only sucked cock for a living and wanted to suck the lips of melissa- we simply had no luck with being sneaky car theives.

some day i'll be cool like nick cage. i swear i will.

in the mean time, i'll relish the memories. the non-car theif memories. heh.