Dude, where’s my car?
As I was taking a walk around 10 a.m. Labor Day here in Charlestown, I was approaching the JayC Food Store, having already walked two miles and having another mile to go.
I said to myself, “I’m getting a little tired, I might just stop at the store and if I see someone I know and I’ll get a ride.”
Well, low and behold, I glanced up into the parking lot and there sat our dark maroon late-model Honda Odyssey van with dark tinted windows. (I thought) Again, I said to myself, “My wife is in there shopping. I’ll just let myself in and I’ll wait on her.”
As I approached the right rear of the van and hit the remote button, the tail lights didn’t flicker like they should, but often times don’t. Just to be sure, I walked up to the right side window and looked in. There was the blue familiar gum jar in the right cup holder and the usual array of papers on the console.
So, I hit the remote button again and tried the handle. Still nothing. So I walked around to the drivers side, pushed the button and again tried the handle. All of a sudden, I glimpsed a movement in the seat behind the driver’s. I immediately moved back to the side door window and the best that I could see through the tinted windows was a smallish elderly lady with her cell phone in her lap frantically pushing buttons.
I thought, “Oh goodness, What have I done?”
My first thought was to knock on her window, which I did, and try to apologize. She would not look up, which I could well understand. However, she was still on the cell when I left.
I am sure that she has related this to someone or maybe someone in her family might see this column. I would sincerely like to issue this lady an apology for giving her such a frightening few moments and assure her that I was not trying to break into the vehicle. I just thought it was my own.
— Charlie Gregory, Charlestown
Dude, where’s my car?
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