Stealing Michigan Molly's Car

I was walking across the vast parking lot of the miserable apartment complex where I currently reside, or "stay at" as the folks on Springer like to say, when a gentlemen yelled this to me, "Are you one of the maintenance guys?" I answered, "Not recently." He said, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean any offense." I replied, "No offense taken. But if I tried to help with a maintenance issue, I'd surely make the problem worse." And that's true. I could easily turn a leaky faucet into massive flooding. Or a minor electrical problem into a fire. There's no telling the damage I'd do. I did want to ask the gentlemen what about me made him surmise that I might be a member of the maintenance crew. But I decided against that. It could have been because I hadn't shaved in weeks, or had a haircut in months, and looked, shall we say, a bit grimy at the time. Certainly not appearing what you could label semi-professional. In fact, I'm looking so unkempt and strange lately that women at the Food Slug have tugged their daughters close to them when I'm within 20 feet. I get a big kick out of that.

Speaking of the complex where I stay at, I have this neighbor across the breezeway who I nod to from time to time when we see each other. I have no clue what the kid's name is. Anyway, the other day I heard a knock at my door. And no one ever knocks on my door. Why would they? I assumed it was Greensboro's finest hunting me down for grand theft auto or something. But, it turned out to be this neighbor who I nod at from time to time. He asked if I could help him move a love seat into his humble abode. I said, "Okay." So, we go out to his truck and lift the thing and start carrying it to his apartment. The love seat in question was nice - supple whitish leather or something. I said to the kid, and remember he doesn't know me at all, "Did you find this by a dumpster?" Alas, the kid didn't laugh...He invited me to stay for a beer. But I declined. The last thing I need is to become acquainted with some wacky neighbor like you see in sitcoms. Like Stuart from Beavis & Butthead. Although, come to think of it, Stuart wasn't wacky so much as a tool. Knowing my luck, the guy is like Newman. Which is actually a good comparison, as the guy works for FedEx or UPS and Newman was a vital cog in the USPS machine...

Speaking of grand theft auto, a few months ago (October or November), I did indeed steal a car. Now, it's all innocent of course. I was trying to do someone a favor. And I'm bad at those. Something always goes wrong. I was out at Wing Joint one football Saturday night and there was this woman in there who goes by the name Michigan Molly (she's a Michigan fan, not graduate, obviously). And this chick was beyond hammered. And she stayed at the bar like 3 hours longer than she should have. I won't bore anyone with how annoying she was. Eventually Dave cut Michigan Molly off and said he'd call her a cab. She didn't want the cab though. This pitiful chick was determined to drive home. And no one wanted that. She could have really done something awful. And what happened next proves, once again, that a) I should not try and help people & b) that no good deed goes unpunished. I told Michigan Molly I'd give her a ride home and she could cab back to Wing Joint the next day and get her car. She didn't like that offer. She didn't want to leave her car there (which is silly, but she was really drunk and there's no reasoning with someone like that). So, she thrust her keys at me and said, "Drive me home in my car." I didn't like the thought of that too much. For one, I did not want to get to to this chick's place and have to call and wait around for a cab to haul my ass back to Wing Joint (it was going on 1 if anyone cares). And 2, I did not want to be roped into crashing at her place, because that's a road that leads to issues. But against my better judgment I took her keys and said, "Alright, let's go." I told Dave that if I'm not back at the bar in 20 minutes that he needs to assume I'm dead or being held hostage. He laughed. I get Michigan Molly into her Oldsmobile and drive the 7 or 8 minutes up Battleground to where she stays at (Lincoln's Greens or something). Only instead of just sitting there while I'm courteously driving her home, Michigan Molly starts in with the grabbing and groping. A pitiful sight. I fended her off well enough and we arrived safely at her residence. I handed her the keys and she said to come in, she has some beer, blah, blah, blah... Well, I'm glad I did follow her in because she could not get her front door key to work. After like 3 minutes of falling all over the place trying to get the door to open, I aided her and we go in. This next detail is important, Michigan Molly drops her keys on a table and races to her bathroom. I sit down for a second and wonder how I'm gonna get out of here. Then I noticed the keys on the table. And yes, I picked them up, bolted out the door, raced to her shiny Oldsmobile, and drove straight back to Wing Joint. As I walked in Dave said, "We though we'd never see you again." I think he was only half-kidding. What I did was left Michigan Molly's keys behind the bar with a little note for her. Then I wrote her another note, drove my own car back to her apartment, put said note on her door and went home. So, that is the story of the night I technically committed grand theft auto while trying to help some poor drunk Michigan fan. It could only happen to me. Or Geilfuss. That's it.

Oh, if anyone cares, I've run into Michigan Molly a few times since then. She thanked me profusely for everything I did for her that horrible night.

I should probably say something crass about the BYU student honor code. But I've mocked Mormons enough here recently, and more or less just think the whole situation is a little depressing. Poor Jimmer. If you saw the game against the Lobos Wed night, he took like 30 shots trying to carry the Cougars.

Hoops tourneys start in earnest next Tuesday, and I'm gonna try and get picks up each day starting then.

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