I had finished my training session and was walking down the street to my car, when I saw someone putting a note under my wiper. Automatically I assumed someone had bumped my car, so I had mixed emotions of annoyance (ie. "fuck, someone bumped my car") and apathy (ie. "fuck, the things a heap of shit and can't be hurt, who cares as long as its still drivable"). I was still two blocks away as she put the note under the window and walked away. Apathy won and I walked up and read the note rather than trying to get her attention. The note was this:
As I read "call the kids" I had more mixed emotions of shock (ie. "kids? no fuckin' way...") and disbelief (ie. "how drunk/stoned was I when this happened"). Since I was expecting something about bumping the car this threw me for a loop for about half a second. Then reality checked itself and I rationalized: I don't know a Chantelle from Amherst, I've never seen her before in my life, and I'm almost positive I've never slept with her. At that point I laughed my ass off.
So I hopped in the car and as I pulled away, I saw the girl walking down the street in my direction. I was in traffic and as I passed by she gave me a blank, slack-jawed stare and as I pulled away she blurted out, "Wrong car!"
Wrong car? You don't say. I smiled and waved as I drove away.
Chalk another on up on the bizarre adventures in rural Nova Scotia list for me.
