So, a few days ago I had to stop at the bank, so I pulled up into a parking spot right in front and went inside. When I got out, I noticed a woman, standing behind my car lighting a cigarette with several shopping bags and her purse sitting on top of my trunk. I have to admit, I thought that was a little ballsy, but I ignored it, walked to the door and pulled it open only to realize…it wasn’t my car! In fact, I even exclaimed, “Holy shit! This isn’t my car!”
The woman didn’t say, “Duh!” But she didn’t have to. It was all over her face. I apologized profusely, while quickly walking to my own car which was parked next to it. She muttered. A lot. I’m not exactly sure what she said. I’m not sure I want to know.
In my defense, her car was a gray four-door. However, it wasn’t even close to the same shade of gray, nor was it the same make and model. Hell, it wasn’t even really the same shape. Oh well, at least I didn’t get in it. That counts for something. Right?