As a 20-something I lived in Connecticut and regularly went down to New York City to see my friend Chip. He lived in Queens and we regularly took the Cross-Bronx Expressway to go into the City. One time we went by a car that was sitting next to the roadway and Chip noted that the car must have just pulled over.
"How do you know that?", I asked.
"Because it's still all there." he replied.
True to his words, as we went by an hour later the doors and the trunk lid were open. Radio gone, glove box rifled, and the spare tire taken was our guess.
The next time we passed, the car was sitting on the ground with all four tires stolen. Later the hood was up and who knows what was missing there. Maybe the engine? It was like a ultra-slow motion movie of a disappearing car.
That evening, as we went into the Village for drinks, the entire car was gone. Who knows how or why. And who cares?
Just another day in New York City. The city that never sleeps.
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