Dude, where's my car? or why u should always listen to kids

nimh- I certainly can relate to that. I usually try to park in approximately the same area in malls that I frequent. A few years ago, I went to a new mall, for the first time. I rode around with the security guard for at least 10 minutes, before I found my car. I had sworn up and down that I parked in front of Dillards, but could not see J.C. Penney from where I was. NOT!

I drive a green Jeep Cherokee. There must be hundreds of thousands of those in 'Merica--if not millions. I have a Canajun flag hanging from the rear-view, in honor of my sweetiepie. That clue has saved me more than once when i've forgotten where i parked.

I have a silver Corolla. Sometimes I find it surrounded by as many as a dozen identical Corollas. Fortunately somebody stole my right rear hubcap. Fortunately? Yes, because now I'm sporting a new set that doesn't resemble the original. Now I can find my car again.

I'm driving a rental hundai at the moment. I've lost it 3 times in the last week. It looks like every damn car out there.

The yellow frisbee on the back ledge seems to help.

It's one thing to forget where you parked...but if you're parking a rental car at Disney with 11,000+ other cars, and don't have the sense to at least note what kind of car you're driving...you are a brain dead moron who deserves to drive around for hours looking for it.

Mine's easy to find. I keep my roadkill collection strapped to the roof.

Reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where they can't find their car at the mall, and George gets arrested for taking a leak in the stairwell.

I couldn't find my car at LAX once. That was a long time ago. I still remember it. Not the car, I mean, I remember the experience.

I wonder which car it was...

It's late at night, people are sleeping in the house. I have to hold a pillow to my face to keep me from waking everyone up with my laughter.

There's a relevant story in our local paper today:

in my hometown (birthplace, to be correct), a woman went to the police, telling them, her car had been stolen in "abc"-Street, a little outsite the town center.

A traffic warden saw it yesterday, unlocked, handbag still open on the rear seats, 800 yards linear distance away from the other place:


The lady had parked her car four weeks ago actually there.
(And nothing had been stolen, which is really a little bit surprising as well.)