Lady in My Pocket (Not a Porn)

I was walking down the street today, obviously to an amazing place where awesome people such as myself hang out, when I started coughing like an angry... fucking angry porcupine was jammed all up in my throat and trying to shit its way out. I reached into my pocket for the pack of Halls (the freshmaker! or wait, no, the, something else, what?) I had the foresight to carry with me in order to avoid a situation where I hack up a lung onto a very busy road, possibly causing major property damage.

Instead of the Halls, I felt three thin pieces of plastic that hadn't been there previously. Curiously, I pulled them out and squinted at them. There was a driver's license, a St. Catherine's library card, and a Meridian Credit Union card. The middle-aged lady on the license looked entirely unfamiliar to me. I ran a hand over my face quickly, just to ascertain I hadn't entered a parallel universe in which I'm a harried-looking white woman. Nope, still pretty old me. Who was this mysteriously lady that had appeared in my pocket?

Google didn't know her. Neither did Facebook. It was as if she had disappeared from this world - as everyone knows, if you don't exist on the internet, you don't exist, period. Unless you're over 40, in which case no one cares anyways. I even asked my dear friend 4chan, but all I got in return was a beautifully framed picture of a horse raping a man. No luck.

Three cards. Three questions. Who. How. Why. As Horatio Caine would say, "Sometimes... the truth is in the cards," YAAAAAAOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!

Eventually I calmed down and thought of a logical course of action. I tried calling Batman, but I kept reaching this 'Mrs. Davidson' person instead. She told me I had the wrong number... but I suspected a coverup. I analyzed the cards carefully. Unfortunately, unlike Nicholas Cage, I'm no treasure hunter, and couldn't find a single clue hidden deep within the numbers and letters. I did, however, find a small piece of popcorn hidden in my navel.

After three hours of puzzlement and worry, I decided to give it a rest. The only logical, reasonable explanation is that aliens did it. Thank goodness for Mulder and Scully, those brave, entirely non-fictional people keeping our planet safe from the invaders.

I mysteriously stopped peeing later that night. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!