"Where are you?" I asked. Husband and I were waiting for my step-dad at our favorite hometown lunch spot.
"I'm on my way ..." *click*
It took him twenty minutes to show up, only to find out he was right across the street. Out of breath, he plopped down across from us, cracking a half smile on his mischievous face.
See, what had happened was ...
Step-dad was sent to the store for a few groceries before meeting us for lunch. Already late, he hurriedly checked out and beelined for his car.
He clicked the key fob, and the familiar flashing lights appeared.
Opens the door.
Gets in the car.
Keys in ignition, and success! It starts!
As he reached for the seat belt, he found a buck seventy-five in the door handle. "This doesn't belong there," he thought—into the pocket it went.
All of a sudden, the cashier ran out, items in hand. Apparently step-dad missed a bag in his haste.
"... wait a minute, when did I go to Sonic? Who's crap is that in the passenger seat? When did I get a handicap sticker?"
"THIS ISN'T MY CAR!"
He looked across the lot and saw his car sitting there, empty.
Jumping out of the doppelgänger, step-dad grabbed the bag, ran to his car, and dashed away.
He didn't ask to get in the stranger's car—one of similar make, model and color. Of all the one-in-a-million-type odds, his key fob unlocked and started two cars in the same lot, in the same podunk town AT THE SAME TIME. A troubling discovery to make, for sure, but one that taught him to pay attention before stepping in the car.
... at least he made $1.75 for the hassle.