Dude, where’s my car?

If you know me at all, you know that I often forget where I’ve parked my car. I tend to park in the general area over and over at the various places I go so that I know where my car is when it’s time to leave.

Enter today.

After I left work, I decided to stop by the grocery store because I want to make dinner one night this week for my Sunday School teachers who just had their second baby. I talked with Jaclyn and we decided Thursday was a good night. . . but with all I’ve got going on this week, tonight was the only night I could throw the casserole together. And in order to make the yummy spaghetti casserole I had in mind, I had to stop by the grocery store.

But of course, because I’m now in Publix and hungry, I end up buying way more than I need to, including things like cherry cheese danish, which I’m not even sure I like, and the Coke Zero I just realized I left in the car. Finally, I get all my groceries together, check out, kindly refuse the carry-out service (I have three bags), and head on out to the parking lot.

So I find my car, the gray Jetta, and stick my key in to unlock my car, since the keyless entry died awhile back.

I turn the key, but it won’t turn. I try again.

I look into the front seat and realize this is not my car.

Oh, it’s a gray Jetta, but it’s actually newer than mine.

It does make me feel better that my car was actually in the same row, just one car over.

But just a little bit better. I still tried to break into a complete stranger’s car in the Publix parking lot.