I have gotten a ride from some part of town to a part where the streets are narrow, like in the city where I worked, because I have parked my car there.  Unfortunately, I can't remember where I parked my car.  Not only that, but I have recently bought two new cars which I like very much, and I can't even remember what kind they are, what they look like, or which one I drove here.  I don't know what to do and am frustrated and depressed.  There is a large yellow tricycle parked next to the corner, and I decide to borrow it and ride around to look for my car.  I go only a short distance down the block, though-as far as an elevator or a pay phone-when I begin to feel guilty and take it back.  I park it back where it was and go up to the sidewalk, which is above street level; as I am putting it back, its owner walks up.  I am really afraid of the consequences until I notice that the owner is Jenny Deltano.  I explain my plight to her; she listens sympathetically, but can't help me.