Two women are returning to their car after a late dinner in downtown Baltimore. They get into their parked car, a sleek-looking Buick LeSabre. Before they can pull away, a man wearing a black bandana over his face and armed with a chrome pistol runs out of the shadows and demands the car keys.

The women climb out of the car and the masked bandit jumps into the car and drives off. The women call the police but there’s no word about the car for about two weeks.

While walking downtown one day, the woman who owns the stolen car spots a Buick parked at a meter. She checks the tag number and it’s her stolen car. She calls the police who tow the car to the Baltimore Northeast District station.

Up to this point this carjacking seems just like hundreds of other stolen car cases. But according to a city detective and the Baltimore Sun newspaper, a call comes in to police from a guy named Greg who claims his car has been stolen — a Buick LeSabre. He even gives the location where the woman reported seeing her car parked.

Detectives meet Greg, 20, then take him to the police station where they have a little "chat." Greg insists that he paid $1,700 for the car less than a month ago.

Detectives nod and appear sympathetic, but there’s little doubt in their minds that this guy is the carjacker they’ve been looking for. After a couple hours of questioning, Greg finally gives it up and admits that he stole the car, at gunpoint, from two women.

With a signed confession he is charged with armed robbery, possession of a stolen car, and a handgun violation. The detectives are still curious as to why Greg would report a car that he took unlawfully as a "stolen car?"

Greg explains that he reported the missing car because he left his wallet on the front seat. As usual, detectives are grateful to guys like Greg who, sooner or later, exhibit this sort of mental fatigue.