A Blonde Moment

I went shopping the week before Christmas. I got to the mall early. I was surprised how may cars were already parked in the parking lot. I failed to take note of how many more cars the parking lot could hold. I shopped and I shopped and I shopped. Five hours later I left with three bags in hand containing, among other things, a heavy cast iron pan and a long winter coat. I left the mall and immediately noticed that the parking lot looked nothing like it did when I arrived. It was now overflowing with cars. Where did I park?

I walked and I walked and I walked but did not find my car, much to the disappointment of those following me in hopes of getting my spot. Where did I park?

I exhausted my arm muscles holding my heavy bags high so that the winter coat would not drag the ground. I started thinking about waiting until all the other shoppers left and revealed the hidden location of my car. Where did I park!?!?!?!

Oh, a mall security truck! I flagged him down. Yes, he could help me. Yes, he confirmed that people frequently lose their cars at this mega shopping center. No, I did not ask if any of the other lost shoppers where as young as I. Instead, I accepted his help with as much dignity as possible. And I thanked him when he found my car parked only a couple of rows from the point where I initially started searching.