True story. I was in Boston to see a Dead concert in 87'. Brand new Porsche 911, Dad's, tripping my brains out and looking for the car in Kenmore Square. I hailed a cop and told him my car was stolen right here. He says "Yea that happens allot here" and takes off. I'm standing in the rain watching buildings around me melt with no wheels @ about midnight. Good thing I knew people from school for a place to crash, but I was so high I couldn't find their houses. A week later the Boston cops called, they found the car in Roxburry. The funny thing was the thief couldn't open the trunk or hood. At the time hidden latches were new so not much damage except for the stereo and door lock. This topic just brought back that fvcked up night.