Creeping Through The Cellar Door (none_too_subtle) wrote,
Creeping Through The Cellar Door

  • Mood:

Grand Theft Auto

I'm walking down a long, familiar street located in my childhood neighborhood, and felt like I was 15 again, probably the result of hanging out with Kelsey more than grownups O_o.

I noticed on the left side of a four-lane highway a Good Year was where a Chinese take-out place used to exist. It had a HUGE, gated parking lot beside the building, very unlike our Good Year at my current address. You have to fight to find a parking space.

It was approximately noon, so I knew the employees were about to take lunch. I only saw two black guys outside, not really working but hanging out. The garage doors were open, but I didn't see anyone else. There were a bunch of spare parts, seats, steering wheels, rims, burned car skeletons, carelessly thrown on or forgotten on the ground of the lot, a few older cars and trucks backed up against the gate inside (I assumed belonged to employees there), and a few bench seats without owners. I decided to chill, and sat down on this putrid green bench seat which still had an armrest that I used for my head. The parking lot was so large, I didn't think the guys would notice me. I watched them for a bit, smoking their Kool cigarettes, laughing, and then slowly walking inside.

I walked up to a square, oily table with nuts and bolts and car scraps on it and noticed a set of shiny keys that stood out, complete with a pen knife. I looked behind me, at the row of older cars, and saw an olive green truck with cream interior and trim. Ugliest auto I think I've ever seen. No one was around. I took the keys, and approached the cars and somehow, just knew the olive green truck belonged to those keys. I was right. I felt excited, from fear, from adrenaline from simply the possiblities if someone walked out and saw what I was doing. None of this stopped me, however. I turned it over, and it was smooth and quiet. My heart was racing, and I slipped out slowly, the wheels grinding gravel underneath, and pulled out into the four-lane headed back to my cousin's.

When I arrived, I parked it on the street and left the keys in it, not even bothering to wipe it to hide my fingerprints. My cousin had a couple of friends visiting who were local talk-show DJs. They were doing a live-remote from there no less, acting all kinds of stupid, and so I tried to ignore them. I was exhausted from what I'd just done, so I tried to lay down on the couch in the great room and relax, while listening to the boys make jackasses of themselves on live radio.

As I was easing in to sleep, I heard a calm voice behind me, asking where I'd gotten my truck, and what I was planning on doing with it. I was horrified, but pretended to still be asleep. I could hear him pick up the keys, and he walked out without saying a word.

I was frantic, but had no idea what to do. This guy obviously knew who I was, especially now, and I KNEW the police would put me away for...God only knew how many years. This was, after all, grand theft auto.

And then, I woke up.

Whew. Never been so happy to hop up and turn all the lights on. WTS?!

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