the dialogue of bonnie and clyde

I spent last night helping The Cyclist pack for his move this weekend. It was great. My hands were completely black from newsprint by the end of the night and I left crazy messages on the boxes that I personally packed; for example, "Packed by The Hot One (Kelly)" and "Packed by the Smart One (Kelly)." I found those messages extremely amusing, but The Cyclist did this whole grimacing/whining thing (afraid that his new roomie would give him a hard time) which I didn't quite understand. Who wouldn't want boxes with comments about how great I am? I know, I know . . . it's hard to fathom.


But this is not the story that I intended to tell you. I have to share with you the experience of obtaining the newspapers that we used to wrap The Cyclist's stuff:


Now, The Cyclist and I are poor and do not have a subscription to the newspaper. Therefore, we had to take matters into our own hands. The Cyclist's great solution: Go scavenging through recycling bins. I raised my eyebrow at this idea, but went along with the plan.


THE FIRST ATTEMPT:
Location: The recycling dumpster outside The Cyclist's apartment.
The Cyclist climbs into the dumpster.

Me: Um, are you sure that we're allowed to do this?
TC: Yeah, of course.
Me: Huh.
TC: Here, hold these *hands me a stack of newspaper*
Me: Ok.
TC: Gross. Someone's thrown their trash in here as well. They aren't supposed to do that.
Me: These newspapers smell.
TC: Do they really?
Me: *wrinkles nose* Yes.
TC: Hmm, ok, we're going to have to go somewhere else. I don't want the newspaper stinking up my stuff.
Me: *gives him papers back* Um, how are you going to get out of there?
TC: I'll just . . . uh . . . climb up here . . . ack *falls back into dumpster*
Me: *smirks* Looking good. Haha.
TC: Shut up punk. *finally gets out of dumpster*

THE SECOND ATTEMPT
Location: Recycling dumpster outside of a fire station.
The Cyclist climbs into yet another dumpster.

Me: Of ALL the places to go climbing into dumpsters, you pick one outside of a fire station!
TC: So?
Me: There's a fireman standing right there outside of the building. He's going to see us and then we're going to get arrested.
TC: He's just a fireman. He's not a policeman.
Me: But he knows policemen.
TC: What's he going to say, "Sorry son, you're under arrest for taking those old dirty newspapers that nobody wants anymore?"
Me: Yes.
TC: Here, hold these.
Me: I see how it is, give ME all of the incriminating evidence to hold.
TC: That's right. I can see it now, "Um officer, I don't know this crazy woman . . . I uh, dropped my keys in the dumpster and had to go and get them."
Me: Gee. Thanks.
TC: Alright, I think that's enough.
Me: *laden down with newspapers, can't move*

The Cyclist and I head back to the car, putting the newspapers in the trunk.

TC: We're like that famous crime duo . . . even though we took newspapers that we were allowed to take.
Me: You mean, we're like Bonnie and Clyde?
TC: Yeah!