Have you ever...
...flown to california for the weekend, parking your car in the airport, since it's a short 48 hour flight?
...walked to your car, parked in area "3d"...
...scoured the 3d aisle up and down, looking and looking for Raul the Jetta, unable to find him...
...looked behind 3d, thinking, "well, maybe "3d" is bigger than just this aisle" only to discover that no, that's 3c, and that one on the other side is 3e...
...looked in your secret place of writing down information, seen "3d" written down, only to dejectly determine that indeed - YOUR CAR HAS BEEN STOLEN!
...started imagining the following:
...the insurance company's going to drop you - an accident and a stolen car in one year - now that's liability! your roommate's sicker than a dog - she can't come and pick you up! You're going to have to take a taxi or the bus home to Auburn...oh, the finances! maybe this is a sign, an omen that you're not supposed to move back to California... this means you're going to have to drive the Young Life minivan for the rest of your summer! the horror of mom-my-ride! how am you going to get to class tomorrow? You're going to flunk out, man!
...walked up to the traffic man directing the taxis, lips quivering, declaring that your car is not where you left it. He asks you for your license plate number - how can you remember something like that at a time like this?
"Well ma'am, do you think you parked it somewhere else?" No! (and shown the guy with incredible traffic-guiding hand motions your piece of paper).
"Well, ma'am, I highly doubt someone would steal your vehicle, because they'd have to pay the exit fee." Oh, the practicality of men! They've probably scrapped Raul by now!
He looks at you and sees that he's wrong - wrong, wrong, wrong. "Ma'am, I want you to walk across the street to that yellow booth," he says, his motioning arms giddily pointing you in the direction of HELP, "and if no one's in there, I want you to dial 5-5."
You walk across the long pathway...violated...does your insurance cover stolen vehicles, you wonder? No one's in the booth: you dial 5=5. The lovely voice of the Port of Seattle police picks up.
"yes, I'd like to report a possible stolen vehicle," you say. The kind lady asks you your license plate number. WHY DOES EVERYONE NEED TO KNOW YOUR LICENSE PLATE NUMBER, you wonder (and you mentally make a note to yourself to add that to your 30 before 30 list). By this point you remember the first three letters...you think.
And it's a blue Jetta, California plates, named Raul, you add.
You're put on hold, for what seems like an eternity. You clutch your suitcase, because you don't want that stolen out from under your very own eyes! You decide that you should just call your insurance company now - maybe they can remind you of your plate number and give you information on rental cars until the stolen vehicle is recovered....
"Ma'am, are you there?" the kind lady asks. Yes, yes you are, dying a slow death.
"Ma'am, I think you might want to try 3p. If your vehicle isn't there, call me back." Thank you.
And there he was. Momentary dyslexia? 3d...3p... Indeed.