Hey, You!

Coke Jacker

Listen, when I come from a wake for a recently deceased friend, all I want is a good stiff drink. I have the Jack; all that is needed is the Coke. But where is my Coke machine? The one that was in the lobby last time I looked? Which deranged maniac stole the vending dispenser of caffeinated, caramelly, mixery goodness? It wasn't broken . . . so don't fix it! Give it back, and all will be forgiven. Otherwise, I swear to God I will go CSI on the mofo and track you down based on the flimsiest of hunches. Y'know, just as soon as I sober up from my Jack and tap water.


Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.

 
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