Dude, Where's My Subaru?

A funny thing happened while I walked back to my car Saturday after an evening at Velour. The walk was farther than normal, because parking at Velour has taken a turn for the worse ever since EVERY adjacent business somehow needs their vacant lots to be completely empty at 10 pm.

I knew I parked somewhere on 200 north, which is really the closest place to park on the block anymore. I spotted the ol' red Subaru Legacy, and opened the door to get in. The first thing I noticed was that the squeak in the front door was oddly gone. Hmm...weird...maybe Pyfer fixed it while I was in the Philippines and I had just barely noticed.

Then I got that weird sinking feeling in my stomach. My car was completely empty! I had stopped locking my car, as I stopped keeping anything of value in there. This led me from worry to confusion:

"Why would someone steal a yard-sale sleeping bag?"

"How much will you get on Ebay for a box of 200 Chance Lewis CDs?"

Then my inner dialogue got more analytical, and I started observing more things in the car:

"Is this a prank?"

"The car is not only empty; it's literally been CLEANED!"

"Why does it smell like bad-jock-cologne in here? (a cross between Polo Sport & Testosterone)"

"Is that a Guster sticker on the window?"

Then I looked about 3 spaces down the street, and saw my nearly-identical car, cracked windshield and all. Squeak? Check. Wendy's bag doubling as a trash can? Check. Paper cup in the holder filled with "We Are Chance Lewis" buttons? Check. I headed home.