I need a ride home

I had to go to Citrus College for more transcript work, so I parked in a convenient store parking lot nearby to avoid the $5 day pass. Then I walked to the admissions building.

They told me that it would still take awhile, despite paying the $10 rush processing fee. Idiots!

I stormed out, but had a complete lapse of memory and forgot where I parked. I was really drowsy. I wandered for a few minutes, then bumped into Jordan. That was random, especially since he’s never attended Citrus. Perhaps he was working on Respond Clothing stuff. He forgot where he parked, too, so I told him I’d drive him to his car once I found mine.

I remembered my TomTom GPS unit inside my backpack, so I followed it to my parking spot. (I know that’s not possible unless I made that spot a favorite, but whatever.)

Shock and anger leapt towards me, its arms embracing my torso, obstructing my breathing.

My rear tires were slashed, stuff inside my car was stolen, and the engine seemed to be heavily twisted somehow. There were multiple dents all along the body, and the paint was massively scratched. I circled my car, examining it, wondering who I ticked off.

“Um, Jordan, I need a ride home.”

So, he took off in search for his car while I got ready to call my insurance company and the police. In the corner of my eye, I saw a young lady look in my direction. She was standing by the grungy store, a group of guys inside were buying snacks or something.

I approached her and asked, “Did you see who did this?”

She nodded.

“Good, because I’m gonna call the police.”

“No, don’t do that. It’ll only make things worse.” Her voice trembled. She was the only witness with everything to lose.

Then, a man walked out of the store in our direction. He wore a black cap and a white, unbuttoned Pirates baseball jersey. I would get heavily beaten. He was glaring at me as he took her and walked away.

“Hey, what’s up?” I said casually. I’m an idiot.

“You got a problem?” he barked back. I put up my hands, took a few steps backwards, and turned back toward my car.

Jordan was sprinting to me, yelling, “I can’t find my car!”

Great.

Other than the $5 one-day parking pass at Citrus (ugh), this is entirely fiction. I’ve been having rough and vivid dreams these past few days. They’re not full-blown, psychadelic nightmares that’d cause me to wake up in a cold sweat, but still. I figure I’d get use out of it here as content.

I’ve been watching Burn Notice on Hulu lately, so that could be part of the problem. I don’t care – I love that show. 🙂