So I'm still in the Lou and we were invited to my cousin's 70th birthday party. We went to the restaurant as a fam (my parents, Gia, Gma, Dr Daddy and I) and had a good, wholesome time. As the party drew to a close, the young peeps started looking at our watches like, 'what's next tho?' I had a cousin (Cuzzo) in from out of town who also has a young kiddo... she never gets out and we both had sitter situations! So I convinced her to join me and Dr, daddy on a double date with his bestie and Kappa brother, Eric, aka Nookie. We pre-partied a bit (I was the designated, tho) and ended up on The Landing. We walked in the most popular club on the strip and it was... dreadful. You know how it goes--
With f up some commas blasting from our speakers we of course attracted a few folks that wanted to partake in the ratchetness. One couple was hella cool, danced a bit, talked ish and asked where we were headed to next.
Apparently that red sports car parked next to our car was a Mustang... not the Challenger.
So we waited, talked ish with passerbys on the street, and laughed about our Hangover-esque shenanigans that somehow only happen to us. Just before the LockSmith drove up, Dr. Daddy and Nookie told Cuzzo and I to call a cab and wait for them around the block. We were pretty sure that what we were about to execute wasn't completely legal, so we needed a get-a-way cab and Cuzzo and I wanted no involvement. We hid behind a restaurant patio wall and within moments heard the Challenger's car alarm sounding off. I text messaged Nookie and he confirmed that the mission was accomplished, money was exchanged, the personal effects had been retrieved and they had locked his car back and left this note--
"Dear New Friends,We had to go in your car to get my phone and keys. Didn't even break the window. You're welcome.Cordially,Strangers"