No parking garage

I was reading a fabulous post at Clemson Girl and The Coach about how she lost her car in a parking garage. It reminded me of the time I lost my mom's car. Not in a parking garage and not in a big city like Atlanta. Sad, but true. I lost her car in the small town of Hartsville. It's like 8000 people or something. Small. southern. town. There could only be like five places the car could have been.

I had helped my friend at the outdoor market that takes place in Hartsville's downtown area (it is like two streets). I had been on my feet in the cold all day so I guess I wasn't thinking clearly. When it was all over, I be-bopped into the Bermuda Triangle-like parking lot and headed over to the space where I thought I parked the car. It wasn't there. I walked up and down every single aisle of the parking lot. No Car. I start to panic. I walk through the parking lot. It is seriously not in here. I decide to call my mom. Maybe I am crazy and she told me she was coming to get the car or something. That could have happened right? She says no. Now I am really freaking. How could I lose her car?

I continue looking in the same spot for over thirty minutes. No one is helping me. What is it that they say about doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Yep, I'm insane! I finally locate the car. Guess where it was...in the parking spot where I left it. There was just a big huge redneck trucked parked beside it when I was looking and it hid the car. It moved. I found the car.

The next time I was in town, I drove my mom's car again and lost the key! I think I need to stop borrowing her car and stick to driving the Volvo. What do you think?