I will never, EVER tell blonde jokes again.

“I just want to blog about this and leave it behind me.”

“Oh, you mean about your instance of… silliness?”


“Yeah, I was being nice.”

Yesterday, the GF and I were invited to play some laser tag at the hit spot for it known as Ultrazone, near downtown San Diego. We were to meet in the evening and, a few hours before, I was at a relative’s house visiting and playing some awesome, kickass, balls-to-the-walls ping pong.

Gravity is not one of the rules followed in family ping pong matches.

The time to meet at Ultrazone nears, and I drive back up to the apartment to pick up the GF. I get there, we get ready to go… and then a problem arises.

I’ve been having a consistent issue with parking my car in the garage ever since I got my Rad Mobile. It wasn’t the size of the garage that was the problem, it was that I always kept forgetting to grab the garage door opener before leaving the car. At least a dozen times, I had closed my door, walked to my front door, and then SUDDENLY remember that I never closed the garage door and I’d have to walk all the way back to do it (the garage is about 100 feet away from the apartment door, which is just barely over the point of annoyance).

Last night, however, we were both just about to head out the door when I realize that I don’t have my garage opener. Slapping myself on the forehead, I head to the garage to collect the car. Only to see that the door was closed.

I only have the one door opener, so this was a BAD situation for me to be in. We tried to get a hold of the GF’s other roommate who owns the other opener, but she didn’t reply immediately and we were already 10 minutes late. Thankfully, one of my cousins who was going didn’t live too far away and he was able to pick us up, but the whole night I was worried about when I’d ever be able to get to my damn car.

Cue this morning. We find out from the GF’s roommate that she’d stop by today to open the door, and when she did, she saw that the garage was empty. No car.

Panic mode starts to set in. She comes upstairs with her BF, tells us the news, and I slip my shoes on to check the garage out for myself. I hadn’t even left the top of the stairs when something on the street catches my eye.

My car. Parked neatly on the curb.

I had parked it on the street the entire night.

My chosen portrait to be hung on the Wall of Shame.

Music: "I'm A Loser" - The Beatles

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