Blog #2 My embarrassing story

One day when I was around seven or eight years old, I spent the day with my great-aunt Marion. That morning we parked her car, a white compact, in one of those multi-tiered underground parking garages. First we went to a movie, then had lunch at a nice restaurant and went for a walk. By late afternoon we were tired and ready to leave, so we headed back to the car. While taking the elevator the level we had parked on, I realized I didn’t remember exactly where the car was parked. When I asked my aunt if she remembered where it was she said that she did not, but we would look around until we found it.
Luckily for us, we had only been looking for a minute or so when we saw a white car that looked just like hers down one of the rows. Walking over to the car, Aunt Marion pulled out her keys to unlock the door when she realized the car was not locked, as the door handle had opened without a key.

“That’s odd,” my aunt said, ”I could have sworn that I locked the car.”

Deciding that it must have been an accident, we got in the car and buckled up. We were just about to pull out when my aunt suddenly started looking around, moving the seat and looking in the glove compartment.

“Where is my stuff? Nathalie, I think we’ve been robbed, someone must have broken in and taken my papers and bags.”

I freaked out, we had been robbed!

“Are you sure?”
“My bag is missing, and so are the papers I keep in the glove box.”

We both freaked out.

Then my aunt calmed down, and decided that even if we had been robbed, there was not anything we could do at that point in time. She told me that she would drive me home, and then go to the police. Just then, a woman knocked on my window.

“Excuse me, but this is my car. Who are you and what are you doing in my car?”

Now I was confused, this was Aunt Marion’s car. It looked just like aunt Marion’s car.

“Sorry, it looks just like my car. I thought it was my car.”
“You didn’t notice that the stuff in the car wasn’t yours?”
“I thought we’d been robbed.”
“You weren’t, because this is my car, so if you could get out of it please.”
“Of course we will. So sorry about this, but really, it looks just like my car.”

As we got out of her car and continued searching the parking lot for our car, I was so embarrassed as we got out I wanted to either turn invisible or miraculously discover the ability to teleport far, far away. Eventually we found the actual car, all the way on the other side of the parking lot.

And that’s why you don’t assume that just because it looks like your car it actually is your car.