How to break into a Toyota Corolla

Meanwhile, in far-off New Haven
    By Ben Smith

I had planned to devote this column to New Haven's annual ice-fishing clinic, which, according to the city calendar, took place last Thursday at 6:30 p.m. in Edgewood Park. At 6 p.m. on Thursday, having been inexplicably denied dinner by Calhoun Master William Sledge following a Master's Tea, I left Calhoun and headed for my car, which I park behind the Herald office on Park Street. Chilly and weak with hunger, I drove as far as my apartment on the corner of Elm and Howe Streets, where I stopped to pick up blue jeans and other ice-fishing gear.

However, a combination of eagerness to fish and the lightheadedness that comes with hunger caused me to leap out of the car, a blue 1993 Toyota Corolla, and lock the doors—with the keys still in the ignition. By the time I had stormed upstairs, dialed 1-800-AAA-HELP, and gotten a call back from the American Automobile Association of Connecticut, I had watched the end of The Simpsons and most of Friends. Finally, John from AAA arrived in a truck just long enough (he told me) to carry a car much bigger than mine on its back, and just small enough (as he had once learned) to fit on the Staten Island Ferry. He noted, "You Yale kids, you can recite Hamlet, but no offense, you're dumb." He then broke into my car, using the following technique.

To break into a Toyota, you only need three pieces of equipment. First, two hard rods, which I'll call "wedges." Each wedge should be less than one-half inch in diameter, at least eight inches long, and, if possible, should narrow like a pencil at one end, without coming to a sharp point. The rods resemble oversized, stylized ballpoint pens; you might be able to find something like them at an art supply store. John used pieces of hard plastic perfectly suited to the task, but I'm not sure where you could buy something like this; in a pinch, even a stray piece of wood might do the trick. The third piece of equipment, which I'll call the "belt," resembles a measuring tape—the kind that salespeople in clothing stores carry with them to find out your seam length, the kind that are white and glossy with red inch and centimeter marks on them. The belt is made out of flexible, firm material between a foot and a foot-and-a-half long and nearly an inch wide. In a pinch, a thick measuring tape would probably work just as well, though I didn't check this with John.

To break into the Toyota Corolla, position yourself facing the front passenger side door. Focus your attention on the vertical gap or crack between the door and doorframe just to the left of the window. Jam your first plastic wedge, pointy end first, into the space at the top of the crack (the top-left corner of the door). Wiggle and lever the wedge until it is stuck in the crack about three inches down from the top of the door and leave it firmly stuck there. Pick another spot, nine inches below the first one, and repeat. You should have widened the crack enough to look through it onto the passenger seat. As John told me, "Don't worry, I'm not going to destroy your car."

The focus of all this maneuvering is the lock button, which looks a little like a tongue depressor sticking up on the inside of the door. It is just a few inches from the doorframe. Double the belt over and insert it into the crack beneath the two wedges, about level with the bottom of the window. Loop the belt firmly around the button. Give the belt a sharp tug, simultaneously up and to the left, at an angle of a bit less than 45 degrees. It probably won't work on your first or second try—even John had to do it a few times to get it right—but you'll get the hang of it. When the lock button pops up, simply use the handle to open the door and loot at will.

The best thing about this technique, John told me, is that you can break into a Rolls Royce the exact same way.

Recent Herald Columns by this Columnist:
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• A tale of two tragedies, 1/22/99
• Yale oversteps its jurisdiction, 12/4/98
• Exit poll, Wards Two and 22, 11/13/98

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