Stolen car

Last night I’m wandering out to my car at quitting time and one of my coworkers is standing in the middle of the parking lot on her cell phone, reporting her 1983 Rustbucket Landyacht stolen to the cops.  It was parked RIGHT NEXT to Ziva.  I commiserated with her and drove her home, which made me a titch late for the coordinating council meeting for church.  I also picked her up this morning because, duh, no car. 

Anyway, we’ve been having a lively and spirited discussion on a wide variety of subjects, and I hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk to her previously, so it’s kinda cool.

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Born 1958. Not dead yet.

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