Melinda,
Funny, but that's what the sheriff told me when he took my report, that it was probably just some kids taking the car for a spin around the block. But when I asked him why someone would steal my old Cougar when there were snazzy vans with intricately painted murals, Mercedes, and other high-dollar vehicles that had been keeping my car company in the parking lot from wence it was heisted, his reply was that whoever took it probably didn't need parts for those other cars.
Another funny thing is that while the car theft was in progress, two CHP officers were eating lunch at a McDonalds not 50 feet away. I know this because they were there when I went into the store and they were there when I came out. But then, there was probably nothing about the theft to attract their attention.
My Cougar was beautiful to look at, delightful to drive, but it ran on lemon juice from the day I bought it in 1973. When I realized most of my telephoning was being done from freeway call boxes I sort of figured I might have bought a lemon. Oh the engine and transmission were perfect. It even got great gas mileage for what it was. It was the gingerbread and accessories (read factory loaded)--things not really necessary for a car to get from point A to point B--that threw me fits, lightened my wallet, and gave my mechanic a perpetual smile.
I spent nine long years whipping that car into shape and making it reliable. There had been times when I prayed someone would steal that oinker and take it off my hands and out of my life! At the time of the theft, the car was nearing mechanical perfection.
Holly |
