Wrong Car, Write Girl
I was sitting in the parking lot of a grocery store that day it was raining here this week, while my mother shopped. I see my car, but a nicer one, parkpretty close to where I am. Here tail fin is better. It was lower. Mine is high and in the way of my view; there are so many blind spots on my car. Then I noticed a cute young hispanic girl get out and go into the store. A few Beatles' songs later and I notice a figure walk behind my car and to the driver door. Is that my mom? Nope! It is the girl from the other red Celica. She tries the key, but it doesn't work. She becomes dazed and confused. She looks around. I tap on the window and point to her car. She looks at me like, what the hell are you doing in my car before realizing that it wasn't her car. I roll down my window, glad I have an excuse to talk to her, and say something which I do not recall at this time. She replies, "and I had to do it while someone was in the car." Sucks for her, but I'm glad she did. It was quite entertaining.

