I'm sitting in my hotel pondering whether to order a crappy pizza or muster the energy and hunt for my food in the urban jungle of Charlotte. I get a strange email in broken English on my iPhone telling me they will gladly pay $50.00 to pick up my car. What the....(rubbing my chin). Son of a nutcracker! I see a picture what is clearly my 57 Oval on a flatbed! Fumbling for my phone, I call for my wife after mis-dialing in a panic, and ask her to go into the garage and make sure my car is in there. She seems to be taking her sweet time and I continue to press and ask her if she sees it or not. "Why?" she simply asks.