Friday, March 27, 2009

Getting The Boot

We planned it for months. It started with me complaining about poor service that caused us to almost miss a plane one vacation. Everyone had a story about bad service, delays, employees who just don't care how much this is wrecking your life. It made us want to pull a caper, get them back somehow. One of us had a friend of a friend who worked there. We found out where the cash is stashed and spent some time faking that we were waiting for planes doing recon on the patterns of who came and went and when things were watched and left unwatched. We organized ourselves, assigned roles, took our time, made a plan involving distractions, handoffs, disguises changed for other disguises. We rode in together with plenty of time to have a coffee and get into position. The plan went flawlessly, leaving no need to employ contingency plans or back up options. We had the cash. There was much more there than we had even optimistically anticipated. Our fresh disguises meant we all looked much different on the way out than we had going in and even during the elegantly executed theft. We were going to get away with it. We were cautiously elated on the way down the elevator to the parking garage. Then everything changed for one little detail. We were . . . stunned. The car was booted. Big yellow metal scruffy thing bolted right to the wheel of the car. Stopping us in our tracks. How could this happen? The driver had a few parking tickets from last summer, he sheepishly admitted. We sent one of our party to two terminals over to ditch the cash and change to yet another disguise just in case. While we called the police to pay the tickets and the debooting fee with our own credit cards. We left the garage, having pulled off a successful revenge caper but . . . instead of richer in the wallet, a little poorer than the day before, all because of the boot.

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