These 2 Bentleys are parked near my sister Lindy's car in the underground garage in her building. Every time she and I exit the door that leads to the garage and someone comes out after us, she turns to them and says, "Love your Bentleys." And the people always respond, "Those aren't my cars."
Then she laughs and they laugh while secretly taking out their iPhones and dialing 911. Lindy's been doing it for months and sometimes I'm there to witness the dementia first hand.
TODAY SHE SAID IT TO A GUY AND HE SAID THANK YOU AND WENT TO THE FIRST CAR AND STUCK THE KEY IN THE LOCK AND OPENED THE DOOR.
Lindy turned to me and said, "I was bound to find the owner eventually."
Thank God she doesn't play poker.