Parking lot mismatch
I have the privilege of parking in the executive garage all this week. My ID badge is encoded so that the doors will open at my command. Upon entering, I found that my designated parking spot until Friday is neatly between a late model BMW in perfect condition and a jet-black Mercedes. Across from my rusted-out green jalopy is an Escalade, a Navigator, and an Astin Martin. The incongruity makes me laugh.