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When I left Orlando last Sunday, I stopped at the Okahumpka rest area to get gas. I generally stop there for two reasons. The first is because there's a big sign that says "Okahumpka!" and I like to sing  songs when I see it. 

 "OOOOOOOO-KAHUMPKA where the tourists are unspeakably lame!"  And sometimes, "OK-A-HUMPKA, OK-A, OK-A, OK-A-HUMPKA, OK-A, OK-A... I'm at this stupid rest stop...to pay for my coffeeeee...Starbucks don't you realize...What your costing meeeee..." 

(Yes, yes, there are dirtier songs, but the lyrics aren't suitable for a family audience.)

The second reason is, of course, because I can spend $4 on a mocha frappucino or my new favorite, a caramel macchiato. It was super hot that day, however, and I had Ouija and Theo in my death-mobile with crappy air conditioning, so I skipped my beloved expensive and caffeinated beverage and just hopped out for gas with my bank card and keys.

After inserting my bank card into the gas pump, I carefully placed it on the trunk of the car and topped it off with my keys, reminding myself mentally, but probably out loud as well to the delight of onlookers, not to forget the bank card when driving off. 

"DON'T FORGET YOUR BANK CARD, GRACIE!" I like to talk to myself in the third person. It makes it feel like a party.

And that was pretty much the last I saw of my bank card.

Until today, that is.  After spending Monday through Friday (today) checking the pockets of the pants I wore that day five times (pre-wash), the area where the pants were crumpled on the floor four times (during wash),  the pockets again two times (post-wash), and the washer and the dryer (once each), it occurred to me that I just MIGHT have never pocketed the bank card at all. I came home with a lot of crap from Orlando and it just MIGHT still be in the car.

Immediately upon having this notion at about 10:30 AM today, I went out to check my car.  Lo and behold, there it was! Under the passenger seat along with two CDs I lost six months ago! My God! I was so delighted with myself that I got back in my car and drove around smoking cigarettes and retelling the story to nobody in particular. I arrived back work after about 10 minutes of smoking and self-congratulations only to realize that I didn't know where my bank card was again. 

AGAIN!

I checked all around both front seats. Nothing. What an IDIOT I am! I was due to go out with my lunch buddy in an hour or so and I had, a) no bank card with which to pay for it, and b) this great story I perfected in the last 10 minutes about finding my bank card that I couldn't tell with any effectiveness.

So noon rolls around and on my way out to the car, I explained my ineptitude to the  lunch buddy who graciously allowed me to troll the parking lot from Spot A (where I first found the card) to Spot B (where I subsequently lost the card). Nothing. No card.

BUT!

Lunch buddy arrives at Spot B, peers into my death-mobile as I'm crouched down on hot Florida asphalt rechecking the passenger side one more time and says, "There it is."

And my God she was right, there it was. On the floor of the back seat. While I do not remember hurling the bank card into the back of my vehicle upon finding it, there the hell it was. 

WTF? 

It would be great if the story ended there. For both you and me. But it doesn't. You see, at the end of our lunch, I attempted to pay for my meal with my newly-found bank card.

Declined.

Twice.

Now, I'm certain that not only does my lunch buddy think I am a moron for hurling my bank card into the rear of my vehicle, she must assuredly believe me to be in arrears to the Bank of America.  I made a lame joke about Hula draining my account, paid with my Visa and we were off.

Oh. But it does not end there either. Oh no.

Upon getting into my car, my eagle-eyed lunch buddy spies ANOTHER BANK CARD. It's sticking out from behind the driver's seat. It's identical to the one that failed in the restaurant, right down to the picture in the upper left hand corner 

"There's another bank card, " she says.

And my God she was right, there it was. It all became clear then. 

Crystal.

In a matter of an hour or so, I found and lost the bank card I originally misplaced  SIX MONTHS AGO. Right about the time I lost those CDs I found this morning under the passenger seat.

I'm very lucky that my lunch buddy isn't the gossipy type. I don't think. I hope.