Marjorie writes in again, with a story told to her by an Aussie friend (in his words). What I love about this story is that it's set in a time and place where people actually left their cars unlocked, with the keys on the front seat, expecting that the cars would still be there when they returned.
I was living in Hobart in 1977 and, driving home, I noticed a friend's car parked outside the corner store at the bottom of my street. I was expecting her to come visit later that afternoon and thought she might be in the store, so I parked behind her. She wasn't in the shop, and I couldn't see her anywhere near. I went to her car, which was unlocked, and found her keys on the seat. I went back to my car and left my keys on the driver's seat, returned to hers, got in and drove home.
An hour or so later she emerged from the friend's house where she had been visiting. She immediately saw that her car was gone and recognised mine. Her companion was shocked to see her car missing and she played along, but when he insisted on going back to his house and calling the police, she stunned him by saying, "No don't worry about it... I'll just take this one!" With that, she got into mine and drove off, leaving him gaping in the middle of the street.