It was a summer day when I came home from college. To celebrate going home I offered to go do the shopping. My dad got a new truck and so I drove it to town feeling that I was in somebody else's truck. I pulled in to the parking lot and grabbed a shopping cart. I got jam and Starburst and beef. I went to the fresh food aisle and got lettuce, celery, and onions. I got bread, fish, and cheese. Then I checked out my food and loaded it in to the back of the truck and got in. But the key was not in the ignition. I looked everywhere. In my pockets. Under the seats. Around the back. Was I sitting on it? Was it in something else? Where were the keys? It was then that I realized that this wasn't my truck. So I had to get out and haul my groceries one by one into my truck trying to tell people what was happening all the way, so they wouldn't think that I was stealing someone's groceries. Then, I got in my truck and there were the keys. In the ignition where they belong.