The joke's on me...as usual

I quickly pull into the parking lot at the post office. It's not really a parking lot, but rather a small patch of asphalt on the corner. Cars are parked any which way, and no one has any hope of getting out of the lot until so and so pulls out first. It's like a puzzle.

I dash for the door- at least what I think is the door. I am harried, as I only have a few minutes before they close for lunch. Glancing to my left, I see a handsome man sitting in a dark-colored SUV. He's so much more collected than I am- or ever will be. Obviously waiting for someone, he smiles in my direction. He has dark hair with silver highlights along his temples and blue eyes. He's the epitome of the "handsome Italian look." He's wearing a stylish black leather jacket, he has a million dollar smile and his mouth is framed by a thin, well-manicured moustache. I grin back at him and continue toward the door.

The next time I fly past him, I am hustling to the ATM, digging around in my overstuffed purse for my card. He motions me over, so I veer toward him with a puzzled expression on my face.

"Are you Mrs. Watkins?" he asks in English with a heavy Italian accent.
"Umm, no," I admit, wishing I were- wink wink.
"Oh, I am friends with Mr. Watkins and I know their car looks just like yours. I thought you might be her."
"Oh, I just stole that car," I laughingly reply. "Have a nice day." (I have no idea what possessed me to quip such a thing.)

I head over to the ATM, withdraw the Euro and hustle back inside. When I get back outside, he is still sitting in his car.

He smiles at me, showing me his badge in the window and says, "I'm a carabinieri, you should be more careful about who you tell your secrets to!"

I start laughing and get back into my car. Surely he knows I was joking.

I am able to get my car out of the lot, but in my haste, I went down the curb- clunk!