I...am a moron.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

So, my RPG group met last night. I had an appointment at 10:00 the next morning (today) to take a couple routine tests for a new job , but I figured we wouldn’t be out too terribly late, so I decided to play anyway.

My friend “Alex” and I live just a couple miles from each other, whereas “Sarah”, who generally hosts these things, lives across town, so Alex and I take turns giving each other rides. Last night was Alex’s turn. I hop in my car, head the three miles to Alex’s where he is waiting with engine running, jump on in, and we’re off.

We have a fun little session; Sarah and I do tag-team interrogations on a couple enemy scouts, and we introduce a new character. We split up about midnight, which is earlier than I expected, and I suggest that we go to IHOP for a snack before we head home. Alex says he needs to get home to his wife, but “Henry” agrees to give me a lift, and off we go to IHOP.

After a nice little snack, Henry takes me home, and I head to bed. 8:45, the alarm goes off; I get up, get showered and dressed in my best business-casual, put on juuuust a little dab of fake CK1 (you can never go wrong with CK1, fake or otherwise), and check the clock. 9:15; plenty of time for me to get to the other side of town for my appointment. I don my shades, grab my keys, and step out the door, lookin’ sharp and ready to face the challenges of a new day.

It’s now 9:34. I’m still at home, sitting in front of my computer screen. Can anybody guess what went wrong?

Hint: :smack: :smack: :smack: :smack: :smack: :smack: :smack:

2

Your car! D’oh!

3

Dude, where’s your car?

4

heh, you’re carless aint ya.

5

Bwahahahaha!

Sorry, but that’s pretty funny. :stuck_out_tongue:

6

Ee-yup. ‘S a bit tricky to get across town when your car’s chillin’ in a parking lot three miles away, and you don’t have time to take a cab. It’s probably not too big of a problem; these testing sessions sound like they’re conducted en masse once a week or so, so I’ll just claim “car trouble” (well, it is!) and catch the next round.

And, once the Tylenol kicks in to calm the headache I got from beating my head against the wall, I’ll take a nice, relaxing stroll to Alex’s apartment to procure my car.

…y’know, it’s not like I don’t get screwed over enough at random, without adding my own dimwittery to the mix… :wink:

7

I feel that pain, brother.

I think when you own a car, you get up in the morning and, regardless of recent developments, would never dream that it’s not right outside. “Of course it’s in the driveway- that’s where I keep it!” Doh.

8

Why in god’s name would you drive to someone else’s house to carpool in his car?

9

The main reason I do this is so when they bring me back to his house, I can just drive back at any old time and don’t have to wait on him to bring me home. Or so he doesn’t have to go out of his way to bring me home.

I, however, have never misplaced my car. :smiley:

10

This is why I always drive everywhere–I never have to worry about the driver being sober, and I never have to wonder where the hell my car is. :slight_smile:

11

That’s exactly right. There is kind of a…shift in your head when you realize it’s at the shop or something. Cars as security blankets?

Poor Roland - did almost everything right. :smiley:

12

At least you didn’t lose your car and have it turn up directly across the street from you.

July 4, 2003. Our town has a major fireworks show every independence day, and we usually spend that afternoon and evening downtown having a picnic. My mom isn’t the brightest person in the world when it comes to directions and having to remember stuff. She parked that afternoon about a quarter mile from the park where we picnic. She parked in a very obvious location, directly across the street from the Mormon Temple. We thought she would be fine locating the car and driving home with my little brother, then age 7. We were so very, very wrong.

The fireworks show usually ends at 10:30pm. Mom and P left the park immediately after to try to beat the traffic (an impossibility that early in the evening). By the time my sister and I loaded up the truck and made some headway in the traffic on our side, it was nearing 11:30. We get a phone call around then from Mom. “I’ve lost the car; can you come back and help us find it?” We could hear P bitching in the background, sounding very tired and mad.

Sister and I plot our route back to the river, knowing it will be another half hour at least before we reach Mom and P’s location. About fifteen minutes later, we’re starting to sigh about this pain-in-the-ass occurence when we receive another phone call.

“I found the car.”

“Um, okay. Where was it?”

P in the background, shrieking: “Across the street from where we were standing!”

Me, incredulous laugh: “What?”

Mom: “Yeah, there was a car… it kind of looked like mine… turns out it was.”

:smack: :smack: :smack: :smack:

13

Yeah, you just get lost in your own neighborhood.

:smiley:

14

I hate that “WTF?” feeling I get just as it dawns on me that I’ve done something terribly stupid. But this is a great story of personal stupidity: nobody got hurt and nobody was doing anything wrong–just a mistake. Nice and light. Good luck picking up the tests.
–Inigo Montoya
An idiot.

15

A perfectly valid question. Alex was coming from out of town, arriving just in the nick of time to get us both to Sarah’s, and his apartment is three miles and four stoplights closer to Sarah’s than mine is. So, Alex called me as he was getting off the interstate, and told me to head to his place and we’d leave from there.

Not something we normally do. Which serves as a mitigating circumstance to the question of how, exactly, I managed to forget about my car, and thereby renders me less of idiot, under the Lancaster-Blankenship Rulings of 1974 (Revised & Abridged), 113.5-27, subpoint C (being sure to reference all relevant footnotes, endnotes, and italicized text), and, um, Mornington Crescent. Right then. I win. Carry on.

16

HEY NOW! You…that’s…
absolutely true. Sigh.

17

I’m a moron, too. I just discovered that I paid $43 for what I thought was an original pressing of an out-of-print CD. They sent me a repressing, which is still being sold on the artist’s website for $8.99.