Growing Old
I must be getting older. Otherwise I would have been immensely embarrassed.

I was walking to my van through a busy parking lot, not really paying all that close attention to where I'm going. I knew the general vicinity of my van and had caught a glimpse of it while walking out of the store. But I was busy trying to fish my gloves out of my purse. A necessity with the air being negative bajillion degrees. I'm rather fond of my fingers in their unfrozen state.

I casually walk up to the door of a van, still pulling my gloves on, and got a weird feeling. I just knew this wasn't my van. Even though I hadn't really looked at it closely, I just knew. I nonchalantly walk around to the next van over, as if I meant to do that all along. I resisted the urge to look around, secretly hoping the owner wasn't the guy who walked out from the store behind me.

Yeah, I was embarrassed. But not humiliated, like I was when I did that as a teenager. I still remember it, probably because I actually tried to unlock the door.

Over and over again.
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