Happy Cab Service

OK, one more Keith story, and I promise I'll stop. At least the stories won't be directly pointed to Keith, but his name may arise from time to time. Prior to being married, I had a love for cars, ... still do, but not as much as Keith. Since we were so much like brothers, there was a built in form of competition between us, just as with the case of any siblings. Keith had a hot car, (the Chevelle mentioned earlier) and I felt the need to purchase one also. Up to this point, my inner hippie prevailed, and I only drove a VW Beetle. It had its quirks, but I loved that car, and drove it into the ground. So I had the opportunity to purchase a 1975 Firebird from a relative. My first experience with somewhat of a muscle car. A couple of lessons learned here. First, don't buy used vehicles from relatives, unless you know the history of the car, and are aware of the things that may need fixed. Second, make sure you have enough money to fix said problems. So I bought the car, and it came with a set of new back tires. They were low profile and wide, just what a muscle car should be equipped with. The following weekend, I had plans to take the tires and get them mounted on my slotted mag rims - I know what you're thinking, way to cool! Instead of putting them in the garage, in my grandfather's way, I put them next to the garage between the privacy fence. There was about three feet between the garage and fence, with the eaves hanging over the six foot fence, there was hardly enough room to walk, and definitely not visible, unless you were in the yard snooping around. So Saturday arrives, and first thing on my weekend agenda is to have my tires mounted. I walk around to the side of the garage, and they're no longer there! Yes, they've been stolen. And no, I did not call the police. What's the point, they're not going to find two tires in all of Omaha. So I went about my day, mad as hell. Later that day, while doing yard work, I saw a blue pickup with side boards, drive down the alley, and pull into a garage where there happened to be a Happy Cab service. About an hour later, the truck pulls out of the garage with all kinds of tires and rims piled high, and there on top are my two tires! So then did I call the police? No, they were not going to exact my revenge and take away the rage I was experiencing. Who in the world could actually help me with my predicament? That evening, I had plans to go out partying, I mean socializing with Keith and a few of my buddies. I related my story to them, and as the evening wore on, and the influence of fermented barley took hold, it became apparent that Keith would be the perfect person to help me do something stupid, daring, bold, malicious, and unsanitary. We arrived back at our house about two in the morning, and before clocking out for the evening, we decided to stroll down the alley. In our mind altered state, we hailed a cab, and viola! There was a Happy Cab at our service. Being a safety conscious person, Keith thought he should check the tire pressure with his tire gauge, before this cab carried unwary passengers. Since it was dark, he mistaken his pocket knife for a tire gauge, and unfortunately, this cab had four flat tires. Sorry, no fares tonight. I thought I would see if the cab was locked, because I had witnessed theft in the neighborhood, and I wanted to make sure to keep the honest people honest. Because of carelessness on their part, the door was left unlocked, so I opened it. After opening it, I was distracted by the fact my bladder had expanded to ridiculous proportions, and I felt the need to relieve the pressure that was exerted on my abdomen. I had a momentary lapse of where, and what I was doing, (must have been from excessive 'socializing') and mistakenly began to use the Happy Cab's bathroom. Whoops, Happy Cabs don't have bathrooms! I didn't figure this out until I finished, and was looking for the lever on the urinal. Sorry about the dash and the front seat. One good thing came from this whole experience. I was no longer upset about losing my tires. Thanks to Keith for listening to me, and being the loving, caring, person he is, helped me through this trying time in my life.