I ask you: how many times have I ever deliberately left my car door unlocked? NOT ONCE! Well, maybe about a dozen times, if I was just running into the house and back real quick. But to leave the car unlocked in a parking lot? When I'm going in to get groceries? No way! NOT ONCE!
So the one time I do - guess what happens. Just guess! That's right. I get back to the car, and I swing open the door, and there's some dude there, sitting composed as can be in the passenger seat! Looking out his window - as if it were really his. Vaguely hippiesh in seeming demeanor and mode of dress, but pretty clean-cut and unthreatening. I couldn't understand what had happened! Was this a new kind of hitchhiking? Had I inadvertently signaled in some way? By now, he had turned to regard me placidly. Well, I had to ask.
"Dude - why are you in my car? You're sitting right where I need to put the groceries."
"It's a hatchback - plenty of room back there." He was unruffled, and his tone seemed maybe as if he shouldn't have needed to point that out. As he said "back there," he did one of those deliberate "swing my eyes in the indicated direction" moves.
"Good point. Dude - why are you in my car? I mean, I'm already leaning in here with these bags, I was not expecting to find you here!"
"From that angle, you can easily shift course to the backseat - just swing those bags between the front-seat gap. Here, I'll help guide the bags back." Which he did.
I'm an easy-going guy, but I don't mind telling you I was getting a little exasperated, even with my groceries now well-stowed. "Dude -"
"My name's Gregg. You can call me Gregg."
"Gregg - " (don't ask me how I knew 2 g's at the end - some dudes, you can just tell) "- why are you in my car?"
I was not going to give him anything additional this time to respond to, to divert away from the main question. I could already tell that was a pet trick of his.
"Dude...your door was unlocked."
I knew it.
So the one time I do - guess what happens. Just guess! That's right. I get back to the car, and I swing open the door, and there's some dude there, sitting composed as can be in the passenger seat! Looking out his window - as if it were really his. Vaguely hippiesh in seeming demeanor and mode of dress, but pretty clean-cut and unthreatening. I couldn't understand what had happened! Was this a new kind of hitchhiking? Had I inadvertently signaled in some way? By now, he had turned to regard me placidly. Well, I had to ask.
"Dude - why are you in my car? You're sitting right where I need to put the groceries."
"It's a hatchback - plenty of room back there." He was unruffled, and his tone seemed maybe as if he shouldn't have needed to point that out. As he said "back there," he did one of those deliberate "swing my eyes in the indicated direction" moves.
"Good point. Dude - why are you in my car? I mean, I'm already leaning in here with these bags, I was not expecting to find you here!"
"From that angle, you can easily shift course to the backseat - just swing those bags between the front-seat gap. Here, I'll help guide the bags back." Which he did.
I'm an easy-going guy, but I don't mind telling you I was getting a little exasperated, even with my groceries now well-stowed. "Dude -"
"My name's Gregg. You can call me Gregg."
"Gregg - " (don't ask me how I knew 2 g's at the end - some dudes, you can just tell) "- why are you in my car?"
I was not going to give him anything additional this time to respond to, to divert away from the main question. I could already tell that was a pet trick of his.
"Dude...your door was unlocked."
I knew it.
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