Cartnapping!

To say that things are relaxed here would be a bit of an understatement. To illustrate just how "yeah, whatever" it really is, let me tell you about yesterday's adventure.

First, it's important to note that everyone leaves the key in the golf cart when it's parked. And that parking space? Can be just about anywhere. Fellow Pittsburghers will recognize how monumental it is to be able to park any place at any time. The absence of "No Parking on Every Third Wednesday When the Sun is Shining and Mars is in Retrograde" signs, the complete lack of plastic lawn chairs saving someone's space... it's stunning to a girl like me.

So, yesterday. Miss O and I rolled up to the marina in our sweet ride, parked it, and left the key in it, per usual. We went on our snorkeling adventure (another post), came back, ordered ourselves some pina coladas at the marina bar, then headed back to our cart.

Which was not there.

Pretty much every other cart on the isaland was there, but not ours. We went back into the dive center. "Uh, our cart seems to be gone..." The very nice woman called Michael's Cycles and explained to Michael that we'd had a cartnapping. "Oh, yeah, I saw it heading down Colebrook Street with three guys in it; I thought they must have been with Jennifer" he said. (Proving that this island is indeed small and everyone is in everyone else's business - our missing cart had already been spotted.) He said he'd go look for it and bring it back to the house.

Liv and I and our pina coladas set off on foot for the house. Not five minutes into our walk, we saw our cart coming down the road toward us. Behind the wheel was a boy who couldn't have been more than 15, a half empty bottle of Kalik beer in hand. "Dude, that's our cart." He looked bewildered. "It IS? I thought it was ours..." I assured him that it was ours - "See that little wind-up toy in the shelf? And the five gallons of sand and shells? This one is definitely ours." He apologized up and down, and then I asked if I could drop him off somewhere. He hopped in the back and we headed over to the marina. As we were halfway back, along came Michael in his own cart. While passing us he yelled over, "Oh good! You found him!" and then motored off like it was absolutely no big deal.

Which it really wasn't, I guess. I mean, the island is three miles long. There are only so many places a golf cart could be, y'know?

Comments

[Gallery Video Voyeur]

uh.. love this thread :))