When I was in college, my friends broke into my house early one morning to play a practical joke on me. I woke up to them handcuffing me, behind my back. Then they left.
So there I am, handcuffed behind my back, in bed. I was way more flexible then, and managed to step through the handcuffs to bring them in front of me. That way I could get some pants on, at least. Now the problem was how to remove the handcuffs!
I had a bench grinder in the garage, and I was able to quickly grind through the chain so that my arms were separated. I still had a bracelet on each arm, with a short length of chain off of each. I began to carefully grind the rivets out of one of the bracelets. That's when the car pulled into the driveway.
Picture being lost, and following what looks like an alley but turns out to be a driveway for a house in the middle of a group of other houses. In the open two-door garage is a young man wearing just pants, who is apparently working with a grinder -- sparks are flying. You step out of the car and ask for directions, and he turns off the grinder, walks toward your car, and begins giving you the directions, pointing this way and that. Horrified, you notice that he's not just been working with a grinder, but removing a pair of handcuffs!
This story would be better if the lady asking me for directions had freaked out, but she just calmly drove away. She didn't ask me about the handcuffs, or acknowledge them in any way. I managed to get the rivets ground off, left the ruined handcuffs on the counter, and headed off to a class. My friends returned from having breakfast, expecting to find me stuck there, and were really upset that I'd destroyed their trick handcuffs.
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