Ok, I'm seriously gonna try to start updating this thing more often. I've had to make peace with the fact that it's really okay to post a blog that's NOT a mini-novella. So they may be short and sweet, but they'll be posted more often. And sorry, Facebook buddies, you may start hearing the same story more than once, maybe just slightly more detailed. (There's only so many details I can give in 420 characters.) Oh wow, I'm gonna be like my Grandfather who tells me the exact same story every single time I happen to mention food. He'll find a way to tell the overly-long story about his first time at a crawfish boil.
Anyway, back to my story....
Note to self: ALWAYS double-check your car for the Tora Tora decal in the back window. Yes, I know that thing makes me look like a self-promoting groupie. Yes, we all know I'm a complete tool when it comes to my bands, and how I like to "advertise" my love for them. Yes, it probably embarrasses the shit out of my husband when he has to drive my car, knowing there's a big decal of his own band's name on the back. (Then again, when have I ever passed up the opportunity to irritate him?) Call me a corny cheeseball if you want, I'm so used to it. But you know what? I can find my car in a parking lot! I mean, it's not like I'm the only person in the lot who owns a silver Dodge Durango. But I'm definitely the only one who has a big red Tora Tora logo on the back.
Anyway, so I'm leaving the nail place after getting a long-overdue pedicure. (which was a story all in itself, because I always end up getting talked into getting procedures done that I don't need or want, all because I can't understand one freakin' word they're saying) I knew the general vicinity of where I parked, so I was just headed towards my car, or what I thought was my car. It was exactly like mine, but I only saw it from the front/side. And knowing me, I was probably thumbing through Facebook on my iPhone at the same time (I have a problem, I know.) so I'm sure I wasn't paying as much attention as I should've been. So I walk up to "my" car, open the door and throw all my crap in the front seat like I always do. Then I'm digging through the bottomless pit that is my purse, looking for my keys, which incidentally are on the largest pile of keychains EVER, but yet, I still never can seem to find. Find the keys, stick it in, go to turn, and it won't. So I'm immediately going "Umm, WTF?" But this had happened once before, because my precious children decided to mess with so many buttons in my car that it got put into theft mode and wouldn't let us crank it. Try again...nope. Only at that point do I happen to look over and think, "Wait, I have a GPS that's mounted to the dash. It's not there. I also have a pile of lighters, receipts, loose change, chargers, and little Starbucks coffee stoppers all piled in the console. THIS console is all clean." I mean, there is NOTHING in it. Nothing, except for a badge...a badge to a medical supply place where I'm most definitely NOT employed. Apparently, that still wasn't enough to convince me, so I actually turn around and look in the backseat. No car seats. Oh holy HELL, this is not my car!!
Then comes the time where I have to very nonchalantly grab my stuff and get back out of this car, meanwhile just hoping and praying that the owner of this vehicle is not standing outside the door staring at me....or possibly calling the police. I'm also really, really hoping that the people that are in the parking lot don't notice that I'm now getting out of the same car I just got into, only to then go to ANOTHER car.
So then I put my head down, and run very quickly to MY Durango that was parked 2 spots down. I know this because even though there's no way in hell that this could possibly happen twice, this is ME, and I should know by now that if it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen to me, so I walk to the back of the car, and see that lovely faded and peeling band logo stamped on the back. I jump in, and again throw all my crap in the front seat and proceed to gun it out of the parking lot at record speed.
Yeah, so Note to Self: Always check for the Tora decal.
But also, Note to my Doppleganger Durango: Lock your friggin' car!!! Not only do you have to worry about idiots breaking in and stealing your stuff, you also apparently have to worry about idiots getting in and attempting to drive it home.
