Alissa called today to ask me questions about grants and to see how things were going. Her department recently moved down the street from the rest of our offices, into the building behind which my car was parked when it got broken into.
S: My car got broken into behind your building a couple of weeks ago.
A: Did it? Mine got broken into not too long ago too. Did they take anything?
S: Just my broken stereo. You?
A: No. They didn't steal anything at all. But they left behind a bunch of shot glasses and a thighmaster.
S: They...wait...what? A thighmaster?
A: And shot glasses. And now whenever I get into my car I get this picture of a drunk Richard Simmons type breaking into my car to drown his sorrows and work out his thighs. It's a little touching.
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