Have you ever forgotten where you parked you car? Chances are, you probably have at some point or another. It’s an easy thing to do at times – particularly when you have a lot on your mind and you’ve parked in a multi-storey car park, say. Less easy to do when you park in a street with definite landmarks around you but even so. Some people can manage it.
But have you ever been so convinced it’s not where you left it you’ve called not only the local authorities to see if it’s been towed and but put through an emergency call the police also? Then, when the police finally turn up and drive round the area with you trying to spot it, you’ve suffered the ignominy of having to admit that there is your car, untouched and undisturbed, right where you left it in the next street over from the one you were looking in?
No? Well, just such an incident happened this week to a certain person I know all too well. He was the host I mystically referred to during my Philadelphia trip in December 2006 as Mr Walter. Given some of his earlier exploits - such as Christmas and the new computer incident - perhaps it should come as no surprise.
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