The Time I Stole My Own Car

After the all day pregame of a very spectacular Dave Matthews show, my best friend Dana* and I were completely blacked out. As far as I can reconstruct, here's what happened after we got out of the show.

We got back to my car in the parking lot and decided that neither of us was quite prepared to make the 30 minute or so trek back to our town. In order to kill some time and sober up, we needed food. There was a McDonalds right across the street from our spot, in a direct line of vision, so that's where we headed. We jumped in the car and basically rolled it into the MickeyD's lot.

We came out of our blackouts during the meal and headed back to the concert parking lot to grab the car. We reached the spot were we knew we had parked this morning. No car. Broken glass and a run-over cooler, but no car. "Oh My GOD, someone has stolen my car!"

I found a police in a cruiser, part of the riot force trying to get us all to go home. I desperately and emphatically explained to him that my car was gone and someone had stolen it! He looked at me calmly and goes, "You probably just moved it and forgot." I was ENRAGED.

However, one quick run by the impound lot proved, in fact, that I had moved it and forgotten. When we went to retrieve it the next morning, the impound guy goes, "You seriously don't remember talking to me? I came in to McDonalds and told you you had 15 minutes to move your car and you said that was fine and then gave me your number."

Whoops.
Sorry for partying.

- B of A&B
The Meadows, Hartford, CT