Recently at soccer practice one of the girls got a concussion from blocking a ball. The girl who kicked the ball drover her to the hospital to get examined for the ringing in her ears and her boyfriend picked her up. This meant that her car would be stuck at our practice field which, while not in the worst part of town, is still not the most ideal place to leave a car overnight. As I know how to drive standard I offered to drive the car back to her apartment for her that evening. I got a ride to meet my friend and her boyfriend because, as I said, I have a history of getting into the wrong car and she drives a popular model. While there is practically no chance of her alarm keys working on another vehicle I’d hate to press my odds. She came with me in her car and her boyfriend shadowed us in his car.
The next day, I was meeting soccer!S to attend bootcamp at Kitsilano Beach. Soccer!S had arranged for a co-op car for the evening and we agreed to meet at the parking location where we often met when she arranged for a co-op car. I was running fairly close to on time, or so I thought until I saw two people sitting in the co-op car with the engine idling. I broke into a jog for the last block to the vehicle considering the filled passenger seat and assuming that soccer!S’ husband would be joining us that night unexpectedly. I ran up to the back passenger door and, with my hand lifting the door handle, realized that the man sitting in the front seat had no hair. Soccer!S’ husband has thick, shoulder length curly hair. Less than twenty-four hours after referencing my troubles with cars, I had bewildered and no doubt scared another innocent driver.
I scurried to the far corner of the parking lot and called awesome!S to let her know that my carjacking instinct had struck again before calling soccer!S to make sure I was in the right place. She laughed and reminded me that there were TWO co-op vehicles in that parking lot. With chagrin, I went to await soccer!S next to the other vehicle.
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