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Where's my truck?
I went to see Ron White last night, at the performance hall on our community college campus. It is a large campus.
At night, I can't really read the section signs out there, so I find some things to use to get me back to the truck.
Show's over and I find the path that will takke me back to the truck. I get to about where I think the truck will be. I make a left, and right away, looking at the landmarks, I know something is wrong. (Did I mention it was snowing pretty heavily)?
Anyway, I walked sbout an eighth of a mile, knowing I was wrong, then turned back.
When I got back to that spot where I made the left, I decided to stop, take a breath and look around.
Three spaces to the right was my truck.
Another study in how people become lost.
Next time, I'll use my Garmin....
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I spent over an hour looking for my truck at Wallmart once.
Finally realized I had driven the Jeep.
Ron White is a favorite here too.
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Glad to here from you that you found it after a fashion....would hate to see a 'blog spot article about it.....
I got in my Volkswagen, K-Mart parking lot a few years ago,... put the key in, drove away, then reached for the radio,...there wasn't one....wasn't my car......key fit...mine was a couple of spaces down...
Have had my truck moved on me a couple of times......BAD feeling, BAD feeling....
Glad to here from you that you found it after a fashion....would hate to see a 'blog spot article about it.....
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Did you find it, or are you posting from your I Phone?:whistling:
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Oog. I once attended a week long conference in Atlanta. I stayed with my folks in Valley, Alabama and commuted, parking at a public parking area and taking public transportation on in. There are several huge parking areas around Atlanta.
The first trip, I parked and went into the center of Atlanta - where all the Peachtrees are and where I hate driving. When I was done, I took the train back out and started looking for my van. It wasn't where I thought it should be. I went over the big parking area several times and finally gave up in despair. There were hundreds (maybe thousands) of cars there.
I finally snagged a parking attendant. He was surprisingly helpful; evidently I was not the only person who had returned to the wrong parking area in the wrong town. He gave me a ride to the next town over and there I found my van.
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