Parking Lot Observations

The drive to work was crazy; I don't know if someone put something in the water or what, but there must have been three folks riding the yellow lines between lanes.  And driving slowly.

Sitting in the car in the parking lot before work, I've watched a man in his early sixties in red sweat pants and a red ski jacket get out of his car, walk about a block, come back to his car and put his big red gym bag into it, walk away about a block, come back again and get his wallet out of the car and put it into his red jacket, and walk away about a block, come back to his car, open the back trunk, and put a striped silk tie into his jacket pocket.  I wonder if this is a senior moment, or a pre-coffee moment, or if this is a normal moment--and I wonder if I look like this person some times because--

--someone has just scraped his car's sideview mirror with mine.  Man, I hate this parking lot sometimes.     He rolls down his window and I roll down mine and we talk;  luckily, our mirrors have some spring, and there doesn't appear to be damage to either car.  He readjusts his parking job.  He's obviously rattled, because he walks away from his car and I have to remind him that his side window is open.

I think the morning's escapees mean Mercury has gone retrograde or something...