That’s One Way To Weed Bad Friends Out Of Your Life

I let my former friend use my car while I house-sat for my neighbor. My former friend needed it for work as his car had died.

Nine days later, he came back in a [Rideshare] and gave me $500.

Me: “Where’s my car?”

Friend: “I’mma be honest with you. I sold it for weed and alcohol. No hard feelings since I gave you a cut of the money, right?”

My car at the time was a 1965 Chevy Impala SS that my grandpa had given me. Grandpa passed due to lung cancer, so that car was massively sentimental even beyond the cash value.

Not that it would have been any better, but if he had used the money to fix his own car, it would have at least made some sort of twisted sense. But no. His own car was still unrepaired, and the money he got for stealing and selling my car had gone into recreational drugs. This stupidity and the audacity of this dude just blew my mind.

Me: “Nope. Major hard feelings. The car is mine, not yours, and you were borrowing it! You had no right to sell it.”

I called the cops then and there. All the while, he was whining, “Come on, man!” and, “What’s the big deal? It’s a car!” and, “But I gave you a cut of the money I made!” and, “Dude, are you seriously this mad over a little weed money?”

The cops came down hard on my former friend. It took a while to make him stop sniveling, “Come on, man!” over and over, but the cops eventually got it through his thick skull that he could be convicted of felony grand theft auto and that those words weren’t just the name of a video game but an actual legal term with major consequences.

I won’t detail the long, miserable process of getting my car back, but my car was thankfully, THANKFULLY none the worse for wear when I got it back. My former friend still got jail time, and I cut him from my life so hard that I’m pretty sure the chopping sound could be heard around the world.