So Saturday, I'm in Austintown, sitting at Sheetz pumping gas in Icey before heading down to Columbus for the awesome X-Rated Cowboys / Joe Oestreich / Ryan Smith show (separate blog with photos to follow).
As I'm standing there facing the front of Sheetz, I see a woman walk out of the store, walk to the parking area, open a car door, get in the car, and then jump out of the same car.
Very fast.
With a shocked look on her face.
She then looks at the car and realizes it's not her car.
Her car is parked next to the car she just got in - and out of.
For the record, they were the exact identical car:
Same year.
Same make.
Same mode.
Same color.
So the mistake would have been an easy one for anyone to make.
As she stood there, looking kind of bewildered, she looked at me and realized I saw the whole thing.
She pointed at her car, pointed at the other car, shrugged her shoulders, and we both had a good laugh.
While I've not gotten into someone else's car ... I have stood beside a car that looked like mine (white escort) trying to open it with my key wondering what was wrong with the lock before realizing it was the wrong car.
I did have someone hop into my car once at a gas station thinking it was a friend of his.
He was nearly punched out, but that's another story in the "Wrong Place Wrong Time" department.
Like the guy who came into an apartment I was renting - with a key - looking for Jim.
All he saw was the rifling on the inside of the barrel of my 9mm pressed to his eye as he walked up the steps.
He soon realized Jim didn't live there anymore. And he left the key behind.
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