Yup…did it again. I got into the wrong car after leaving the store.

I blame my damn iPhone. I’ve morphed into a chronic “texter” and only glanced up for a moment to see my car straight ahead. It wasn’t until I got in and thought  “Boy, when did I clean this? I really did a great job.” …did I realize it’s not my car.

Just so you know, if you accidentally get into MY car, the area behind the passenger seat doubles as a temporary garbage can for receipts, Dunkin Donut cups, old gum wrapped in tissue, and empty McDonalds bags. Feel free to utilize. And there’s a damn good chance there will be chocolate ice cream drips on the steering wheel.

So… whose car was this, and why was I in it?

Well, no biggy. Just like last time — when I jumped into a car at my daughter’s school that had leopard print car seats and I thought “Gee, I like what I’ve done with the place.” …I’ll simply get out, close the door, and find MY car.

Then I turned to see HIM! The man sitting in a car right near this one. I assume he was waiting for someone since his engine was running. And he was looking right at me.

I can’t leave one car, and get into another car right in front of him, right?
I can hear it now…  S-E-C-U-R-I-T-Y!! 

That’s when it hit me. I took one acting class in college. Yes, just one. I will use my talent. I will pretend that I forgot something and casually walk back into the store. Genius!

First — I do a quick look in the bag. I apply the shocked “Oh for the love of… [pause for effect] did I forget that item that I desperately needed and did not buy?” look.

Second — I shake my head with a saddened look of disappointment. I now have to go back into the store and buy that item that I forgot.

Third — I sigh loudly and hang my head low. I do this as I leave the stranger’s car because I am disappointed that I can’t head home to my loving family in my impressively clean vehicle that is clearly mine.

I shut the door. I walk away. I am happy with my work. I arrive back in the store. Now what? Should I buy a coffee, look at the Slushie flavors for a little while (there’s only two), purchase a cheese pretzel, or pace a little.

I pace a little then leave, assuming by now the coast is clear.

Upon exiting I make a bee-line for my car. I do not text as I walk to it.
Oh, wait! All of that work and the man is still there. He sees me. Oh well, who gives a crap?

Because, here’s the reality… EVERYONE gets into the wrong car!! Even my own mother.

One time, a man was waiting for his wife in his car at the same time my dad was waiting for my mom. My mom got into the other man’s car. He said “I’m getting the best of the deal!”  🙂

My boys got into a van with their dad, looked on the console and wondered “Which one of us is reading THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD?”

My one friend even waved the rightful owner away with her hand as he asked “What are you doing?” She told him she didn’t need any help, her key just wasn’t working.

So, the next time I do this — and there will be a next time — I will not try to hide my embarrassment. I will wear my humility with pride. And… I’ll let you know what I find. 😉