Carol’s Column

Desperately seeking your ever-so-lost beloved car

At this very moment, there are 7007 individuals wandering around parking lots and garages desperately seeking their lost motor cars. These figures come from Central Statistics.

In several cases, the cars will have been redistributed and are already on their way to Nelspruit, Pofadder, Nairobi, Maputo and other exotic destinations.

But in most instances, these cars have just been misplaced by their owners who cannot remember where they parked them.

You've seen them, eyes wild, minds jangling like the keys clutched in their hands, looking not a little demented. The owners, not the keys.

This week at Sandton City, Frumilla Glibbeltorte wandered for five hours until she finally found her green vehicle which she'd carefully parked next to a decayed pillar.

It was only at 7pm, after a trouble-shooting, brainstorming group therapy session with LOWS, that she suddenly remembered she'd parked her car, not at Sandton City, but instead at Village Main from where she'd taken a lift with a friend to look at the latest in bubble-bath foam at a bathroom shop at Sandton. Automatically, on completing her shopping, she walked to the car park. The wrong one, and began searching.

So, I hear you asking, who or what is LOWS? Pertinently, the acronym stands for the Lost Wheels Society recently formed by Petrus Klonk who suffered a nervous breakdown after parking his car at a well-known shopping mall in Springs on the East Rand. It took him two-and-a-half days to find his car (they have vast parking places apparently), and even today, almost a year later, he has not fully recovered from the experience.

“It was shattering,” he said at the time. “But losing my car did improve my marriage because I am filled with admiration towards my wife who visits these places every day for purposes of shopping and always remembers where she's parked the car.”

Unlike the majority of parkers, Kleintjie Klonk is a well-organised person. “A thinker,” says Petrus, “who'll never mislay her car.”

It was for the hundreds of thousands unlike Kleintjie that Petrus formed LOWS. He was overwhelmed by the immediate interest and support he received. Today, there are over a million LOWS members.

“The Lost Wheels Society is more than just a club,” explained Petrus. “It is essentially a support group. We meet daily, at parking lots and garages throughout the land. We discuss, synergise and work out strategies to prevent people from forgetting where they've parked their cars.

“For instance, writing the floor and number of the parking area on your hand as you park is popular but many people prefer to write under their chins, their thighs or the inside of their arms so that the ink doesn't smudge.

“Also popular is the tape recorders system. You carry a small tape recorder and then talk into the tape ... this is Monday, 10am, I have just parked the yellow Beetle (if you own more than one car, you MUST be specific, says Petrus) at pillar 18 with the orange stripe on B2, I repeat, B2.” This is an almost foolproof method, according to Petrus.

Last night, frantic, I jogged around the eight floors of the local parking garage and bumped into Lucas Radebe who'd also mislaid his car.

“This is terrible,” he said as we jogged together. “I'd rather lose my wife than my car.”

“Absolutely, and the trouble is,” I confided to Lucas, “even if I tried to misplace my husband, he'd find his way home.” We both agreed that it was far easier and cheaper to lose a car than a spouse.

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