Recently, after an uneventful day at work, I walked through the dimly lit parking garage. I spied my car and hit the button to pop the lock. As I sat onto the seat, I fell back with a hard slam. This happens when I take my car for an oil change and the mechanic moves the seat back.
Something felt different. I glanced toward the passenger seat, it was farther back than usual. Someone had been in my car, but why? How? A chill ran down my spine. I was in the Twilight Zone. I had to get out of this dark garage. I needed daylight.
I slid the key into the ignition, but the steering wheel was locked. I jiggled the key to release the wheel but it wouldn’t move. Panic set in…what was happening? What once felt comfortable, getting into my car to go home, now felt completely foreign.
My hand shook as I turned on the overhead light. I had to get the steering wheel unlocked. I had to get out of here. I glanced down and that’s when I saw it. Lying on the console was a box of Marlboro Lights. What? I don’t smoke…that’s when it dawned on me…holy smokes I’m in the wrong car. The car was the same color, make and model, but definitely not mine.
I jumped from the car as fast as I could and raced two spots over to my car. I slid into my seat and breathed again. As I exited the parking garage, I hoped Big Brother hadn’t captured it all on camera.
Have you ever found yourself in the wrong place?