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Gross Point Blank

I need a good plan

There are these annoying camo-colored beetles that bumble around clumsily at my place at night. I can't stand them. They have no flight plan and appear to be clueless as to where they're heading.

It's stands to reason that they thunk right into things, including me. What's even more gross is that some of these beetles have what look like little suction cups and will cling to what they land on (myself included). When they bang into things and land on their backs, they struggle and struggle to right themselves again (that part is fun to watch because it takes them so long).

They drive me buggers.

But it's come to my attention that I operate much in the same fashion, without a plan. But only once in a while do I clumsily thunk into something. The only problem here is that when I do have an upset, it's quite significant.

Last Saturday, I met a friend for coffee, knowing full well that we'd be taking his dog for a walk afterwards.

The day was very unscripted, which is what one can expect when hanging out with me.

I met him at the coffee shop. We had coffee. We went to the farmer's market. We went to the river. We got hungry. We went to lunch.

Much of that time was spent laughing at my inability to have a plan, or, if there is a plan, to stick to it.

As we came around the corner where I'd left my car that morning, my eyes started to scan the parking lot.

My car was gone.

I was filled with panic. I went into the business I'd been parked near and said, "Could you tell me where my car is?"

The man looked at me, sensed my panic and did his very best to sound sincere while telling me that, gee, he was sorry, but it was their grand opening that day. He had to have it towed.

Trying to settle down, I called the company that towed it. Again, I asked if they could tell me where my car was. It was locked behind a gate at their business, which was officially closed. I was told it would be an additional 70-some-odd dollars to "open" the office. When asked if I could be given a ball park figure of how much it would cost, he answered, "Oh, $200 at least."

At that point, I'd have given anything to have had a plan with which to cling to from the moment I'd gotten out of bed that day. A plan that would've included being observant and noticing the warning sign in front of the business that said, "Unauthorized vehicles will be towed."

While we were getting the car out of impound, my friend looks at me and says, "Boy. Hanging out with you sure is an adventure."

Suddenly, those camo-colored, navigationally challenged beetles don't seem half as irritating.

I can't believe I'm going to state this for the record, in print. But I think I understand them.

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