You ever approach your car in a parking lot and think, boy, I did a terrible job parking, and look at your car and think, man, it’s a lot dirtier than I realized, and then try to get into your car and discover —
Yeah. It’s not your car.
Happened to me yesterday. Meanwhile, friends told a Palo Alto tale involving two Priuses and a parking garage. One of the cars was their vehicle. They got in it, started it up, and began backing out.
The wife said, “Something’s wrong.” She looked around. “I don’t think this is our car.”
More looking around was conducted. They noticed a tissue box on the back seat.
Definitely not their car.
They pulled back into their spot, parked and exited. But, what the hell? Where was their car? They’d parked right here.
Actually, they’d parked two spots over. A large truck blocked their car from their sight during their approach. Some color and year, just a little different.