Pushing a filled grocery cart through the parking lot, the old lady was horrified at what she saw. Four young men were getting into her car.

Boldly, the woman rolled her groceries toward the car while reaching into her purse. Hauling out her “Lady Glock,” a .40-caliber semi-automatic pistol, the woman drew on memories of old western movies she’d watched as a little girl: “Grab some sky you varmits-I’ve got you covered and you’d better believe I know how to use this thing!”

The men were dumb-struck. They raised their hands as the lady commanded. “Now what?” they must have thought. Seconds later, one of the men bolted and ran. No shots were fired, so in the blinking of an eye the three other apparent bandits disappeared over the horizon.

After putting ol’ Rosco back in her purse, the lady slid in behind the wheel of her car feeling every bit like Roy Rogers after he’d dispatched a pack of western bad guys. Then something strange happened. The ignition key... it didn’t fit!

The woman looked around the parking lot. Gulp! There, five parking spaces away, was another car looking exactly like hers. The key worked in the other car. Her real car.

This was a basically honest woman, so you’ll understand why, minutes later, she was standing in front of the desk sergeant explaining the incident. She proudly showed the officer her concealed carry permit. The sergeant seemed amused by the woman’s story.

“You want to see something even stranger than that?” the officer said to the lady. He pointed toward the other end of the complaint desk counter where four young men were in the process of reporting a carjacking. It took a while to sort things out, but in the end nobody was arrested.