Police Custody
So tonight started off with going to Mark L.'s birthday party and ended up with us carless and in police custody.
We met up with Mark and his group at about seven at Alexander's, a local steakhouse in Averysville. We had a nice meal, some fun chat, and we were ready to go to Sparky's (the lesbians wanted to meet up there for some karaoke), when suddenly Carl announced: our car is missing, and he starts going ballistic. He went into the restaurant to see if we were towed (it was odd as there were no signs), and I waited outside. That's when a woman in a green truck pulled up and said, "... are you looking for a car by chance? A silver one?"
"Yeah," I replied, "Why??"
"Well I saw two cars get towed outta here ..."
I felt my cell phone vibrating, and it was Carl, who said but two words: "COME IN!"
We were then told that the police had come and told them that the cars were STOLEN, and the restaurant staff had tried to page us. We, of course, heard nothing; not only were we in the back room, but the table next to us was full of giggly high school girls. Eventually a police offer arrived and escorted us outside, where we were told that the car's owner -- Carl's dad -- reported the car stolen.
In 2007.
So we were brought downtown. Petula Clark's a liar, that's all I can say, as thing weren't great when we were downtown. The police car had NO leg room at all, so I had to fold against the left door and Carl had to slide in horizontally. We were then separated into a different interrogation room each after we took off our shoes, emptied our pockets, etc. -- they even tried to get me to take my earring out but it's been in for five years and I don't know HOW to take it out anymore. ^^;;;;
So I wait. And wait.
And wait.
Eventually some guy who looked like a heftier version of the guy from Real Estate Intervention came in, led me to a place to pee, and escorted me back to the interrogation room.
And I waited more. I started nodding off after scanning every single detail of the soemwhat claustrophobic room waiting for someone to -- well, do SOMETHING.
Finally, a rather handsome bearded man came in, and explained to me what was going on. Carl bought the car in September of 2007, and the car was reported stolen in April by its former owner. What happened remains unclear, but the most likely scenario is that the car was repossessed (which would explain some of the blemishes on the car). But the question is: if indeed it HAD been declared stolen, why did it take this long for us to know about it?? I mean, you think the DMV'd've said something, right??
Fun side notes from tonight's adventure:
The police officer who brought us downtown told us that it was good that he had to be called back; had we come out when the announcement was made, multiple police officers would have been on the scene and guns would have been pointed at us. Joy. There was no question that we were partners, which the officer had no issue with (he quickly realized that, no, we weren't vehicle thieves), but the cute bearded detective, on the other hand? That's another story. He was quite uncomfortable with Carl and, when he came in and expalined to me what was going on, he wanted to refer to Carl and said, "Your ... erm ... your friend ... :: fidget ::".
Apparently Mark, the birthday boy, thought the officer was hot, and as we were being driven home by two other friends, we talked about how that would have made officer porn -- Mark and the officer, Carl and I with the detective ... and the Real Estate Intervention guy can sit in the corner and watch while beating off. :: laugh :: So apparently the detective contacted Carl's dad to try to figure out what was going on, and Carl's dad went fucking APESHIT. Carl's dad has never been a voice of reason, and just went off full-barrelled at the detective for every reason under the sun. This is, after all, the same man who wouldn't talk to me for three years because I presumably converted his son, so ... 9_9
We met up with Mark and his group at about seven at Alexander's, a local steakhouse in Averysville. We had a nice meal, some fun chat, and we were ready to go to Sparky's (the lesbians wanted to meet up there for some karaoke), when suddenly Carl announced: our car is missing, and he starts going ballistic. He went into the restaurant to see if we were towed (it was odd as there were no signs), and I waited outside. That's when a woman in a green truck pulled up and said, "... are you looking for a car by chance? A silver one?"
"Yeah," I replied, "Why??"
"Well I saw two cars get towed outta here ..."
I felt my cell phone vibrating, and it was Carl, who said but two words: "COME IN!"
We were then told that the police had come and told them that the cars were STOLEN, and the restaurant staff had tried to page us. We, of course, heard nothing; not only were we in the back room, but the table next to us was full of giggly high school girls. Eventually a police offer arrived and escorted us outside, where we were told that the car's owner -- Carl's dad -- reported the car stolen.
In 2007.
So we were brought downtown. Petula Clark's a liar, that's all I can say, as thing weren't great when we were downtown. The police car had NO leg room at all, so I had to fold against the left door and Carl had to slide in horizontally. We were then separated into a different interrogation room each after we took off our shoes, emptied our pockets, etc. -- they even tried to get me to take my earring out but it's been in for five years and I don't know HOW to take it out anymore. ^^;;;;
So I wait. And wait.
And wait.
Eventually some guy who looked like a heftier version of the guy from Real Estate Intervention came in, led me to a place to pee, and escorted me back to the interrogation room.
And I waited more. I started nodding off after scanning every single detail of the soemwhat claustrophobic room waiting for someone to -- well, do SOMETHING.
Finally, a rather handsome bearded man came in, and explained to me what was going on. Carl bought the car in September of 2007, and the car was reported stolen in April by its former owner. What happened remains unclear, but the most likely scenario is that the car was repossessed (which would explain some of the blemishes on the car). But the question is: if indeed it HAD been declared stolen, why did it take this long for us to know about it?? I mean, you think the DMV'd've said something, right??
Fun side notes from tonight's adventure: