Last week, personally, was one that I would rather forget.
But, when I retold a story about me stealing a truck from the Thoroughbred Ford dealership in Platte City to a few people, it got a few laughs and a few 'what in the heck' responses.
I didn’t actually steal a truck. I mean, I’d much rather write the news then be in the news, but me trying to do something nice for a friend of the owner here, I about landed in jail.
Let me set this up and try to tell my side of the story. I don’t have the official police incident report, but I’m sure it will include a lot of what I say.
But let me preface this by saying, I didn’t go to jail, #blessed.
On Friday, I got a text message from Cindy Kendall, who is the one that answers the phone. She said we needed to go pick up a truck at the Platte City dealership.
Sometime the week before — when I was traveling between Columbia and St. Louis for state swimming and wrestling — the owner of the paper and two of their friends went on a cruise. From what I was told, on the way down the friends of the Johnsons had issues with their truck and took it to get worked on while they escaped this beautiful wintry weather we get every couple of days.
So fast forward to Feb. 22. I come to work and I get a ride with Cindy to pick up the truck. I have to pay for it and bring it back. On Saturday, the group would return to Kansas City and then return home up north to even crappier weather than we have.
I didn’t know the name of the ‘friends’ but when I walked in I told them I needed to pick up a truck. I didn’t know the name but I knew it was from Mound City. I mean the town is an hour away. I can’t imagine a lot of people would drive to Platte City to get their truck worked on if they lived in Mound City. Looking back on it, not knowing the name or asking for more information was the first and biggest mistake.
But, even with my description: truck, Mound City, dropped off last week rung a bell. An employee said a name, I said ‘sure’ when I had no fricking idea and then I went to pay. I got that part taken care of and I got the keys. I asked an important question. Where was the truck? They said on the side. Then said what one is it? Then, I was told, just push the panic alarm, you’ll find it.
So, I walk out. I push the unlock button and one truck’s lights reacted. I got in it. Drove to the office. Parked it. Left the keys on the front desk.
On Saturday, Feb. 23. I come to work to kill time before the North Platte basketball games. I get ready to leave to head to Dearborn to get there a bit early. Instead, a Platte City Police Officer is here asking about a stolen truck and if I knew anything. Well, to the stolen part, no? About the truck, yes. I go in and get the bill and the key fob. Well long story short, I got the wrong truck.
But to the owner of the truck, who was here and highly agitated, and one of the officers on the scene, both found it very unlikely I showed up there not knowing whose truck I was suppose to get and left with this one. Well, I hated to admit it, but it was true. I picked up a truck belonging to Laurence Corder, a Lawrence, Kan. police officer. I was suppose to get a car belonging to Gary Vette, which I learned after a panicked phone call.
We go to the dealership to try to clear the mess up. I was told when I came in on Friday that I specifically said I need to pick up a truck for Laurence Corder. That, I know, I didn’t do. Back a few paragraphs, I didn’t know a name — giant mistake — just knew it was a truck from Mound City.
It got sorted out. The dealership couldn’t let me pick up the truck I was supposed to and when I left, they were going to talk to the owners when they landed in Kansas City.
Apparently, I wouldn’t make a good car thief though. I mean, who would steal a nice truck and then go to work and leave it parked for 24 hours?
I guess rule of thumb, or pro tip, when you are trying to do something nice for someone, make sure you don’t almost get arrested for doing said action.