In need of sock puppet
Our rebellious son was planning on a clandestine rave with friends in SF tomorrow. It was intended to be a "screw the uptight parents, we're gonna rave till dawn" happening. Turns out Thinkcooper knows the rave host really, really well. One phone call transformed an in-your-face screamer into an in-the-side-door-without-tickets-but-babysat-the-whole-night wet dishragger. Yeah. It all comes around, and your parents are hipper, better connected, and not easily hoodwinked.