Illustration by Bob AulIt's 8 p.m. I've just gotten ready for work and I'm going to my car—but it's gone. You, whoever you are, took it. Frazzled, I phone the police. At 8:15, the police arrive. By 8:25, the report has been filed. I explain to the officer that the only important contents are two pairs of vintage roller skates and a file with important papers. The cop leaves. I consider my transportation options. At 8:30, the police department phones me: they've found the truck two miles away, parked on the wrong side of the road and, of course, ticketed. The roller skates are gone.
So who are you, and what's your deal? You steal a truck only to drive it two miles and abandon it on the side of the road—and then bail with my prized roller skates. You are one dumb bastard. You will not get away with this; nobody steals Rollergirl's skates. Haven't you seen Boogie Nights? I will hunt you down and stomp you!
Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, P.O. Box 10788, Costa Mesa, CA 92627-0247, or e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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