Doing a quick errand, I park next to the food coop and run in to buy snacks for company. Hurrying back to my car, I am reviewing the menu as I climb into the driver’s seat. Then I notice that the hat on the passenger seat isn’t mine.
It’s the wrong car! I scramble out and slam the door, hoping the owner isn’t nearby. How could I have made such a mistake? True, the car is a green SUV, but easily distinguishable from my own green SUV right in front of it.
I am not only embarrassed but concerned. As a young person, I wouldn’t think twice about such a screw-up, but as an old person, I fear I’ve lost it—whatever “it” is. Cognitive competence, maybe? But I was distracted, preoccupied. Still, the self-doubt lingers as I very carefully drive home.
Two days later I’m at the food coop again, sitting in my car after buying groceries. As I check my phone, I hear the passenger door open and see a strange woman start to get in. Then she sees me and realizes: It’s the wrong car!
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims as she backs out. “No problem,” I say and want to thank her. Because, you see, she’s a young woman.
Which must prove I haven’t lost it, whatever it is.
