Jul 10, 2024 3 min read

I’ve been asking myself some big questions lately. Who am I? Why am I here? Where did I park?

Getting lost in the Costco parking lot can change your life.

In most of my travels, I have a particular aisle or a secluded parking spot near a reference point, under a shady tree, near an iconic local landmark, or a flashing neon sign. I have a routine, and I get confused whenever I stray from that routine. I’m not at the Peter Fonda in “On Golden Pond” stage, but there are signs of decrepitude. For instance, I’m referencing movies that came out more than 40 years ago.

I like to park near the gas station, against the cliffside, above the Montour Trail in the Robinson Costco. However, if you go to a Costco on a Saturday, you don’t get to pick your spot. It’s a free-for-all. It’s the DMZ.

If it can be avoided, don’t go to a big-box store on the weekend. It’s the suburban equivalent of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land: Everyone is there. “Everything, Everywhere, All At Once!”

I wandered up and down the aisles with a shopping cart, one that had three good wheels and a defiant, squeaky one. The bad wheel kept trying to take me off course, but – unbeknownst to the silly shopping cart – I was already off course. When I finally found my car, the clouds parted and a lone sunbeam shone upon it, or, at least, that’s what it felt like.

I’m a calm and reasonable person until I lose either my credit card or my car. Most of the time, both are usually where I left them. There’s nothing like an unwarranted panic attack to clear your head.

I have strategies to avoid this panic. My Mastercard has First Position in my wallet. When I go to parking garages, I park on the roof.

Hint: All the floors in the parking garage look the same except for the one with the sky above it.

Parking garages, strip malls, and big-box stores are scary places to lose your car, but the airport is the worst. On my last trip, I snapped a picture of the parking lot sign. My vacation photos consisted of hiking trails, beaches, statues, unique architecture, and a sign, D13.

The only thing worse than losing your car is losing someone else’s.

On that same trip, I forgot to memorize my rental car’s license plate. I wandered up and down a palm-lined street in Venice Beach peering into every blue Kia along the way, hoping to see my carry-on in the passenger seat. There were seven. When renting a car, get something unique and not cheap. Don’t be me.

The only good thing about losing your car in a parking lot is the joy you feel when you finally find it. I wish I had that feeling every time I see my car, but – with the way I’m going – I probably will.