Have you ever lost a car? It happened to me for the second time on Sunday. The first time was when the Providence Place Mall opened and they held a grand event with everyone of any importance in attendance. Being in the news business, I had carte blanche and I used it. What I hadn’t taken into consideration was the parking garage and its multiple levels that don’t always coincide with the floors of the mall. There is a sort of half level to the garage that if you’re not careful can be confusing.

I consider myself to have a good sense of direction to the point of having looked once at a map, I can find the destination and know exactly how to get back to it years later. It’s assumptions like that that can get you into trouble.

That’s what happened on that first visit to Providence Place. I made a visual notation of where I was entering and the surroundings and, while not leaving a trail of crumbs, figured I could easily retrace my steps. When it came time to leave, I confidently set off to find my car, fully expecting I’d soon be joining the line of departing dignitaries and the masses that turned out for the opening.

What a misconception. When the car failed to be where I was convinced I’d left it, the thought crossed my mind that it had been stolen. Then self-doubt crept in, which was a good thing because I surely would have looked stupid reporting a stolen vehicle when, in fact, it was on one of those half floors just below where I thought it should be.

Learning this lesson took more than an hour. It made an indelible impression that comes to mind whenever I park at Providence Place. Remember what door and floor you entered the mall and keep in mind where your car is in relationship to that entrance.

That hasn’t failed me until this Sunday, when I drove to Providence to catch the opening ceremony of the New England Institute of Technology graduation at the Rhode Island Convention Center. I was hopeful of meeting commencement speaker Bill Walton and Susan Groh, who has coordinated the event for years. She arranged for me to join college president Richard Gouse and others in the procession as they put on their robes.

I had no problem making all those connections. It was finding the car that proved to be challenging.

My intention was to park in the convention center garage, but because of Sunday’s Providence Marathon, Providence traffic was rerouted and I found myself at Providence Place. The mall lot was packed with the vehicles of race participants, and after winding back and forth and up and down I found a spot that was close to the elevation of Route 95. I took that as my homing setting and, without much thought, took an elevator up to a level that I believed would put me in line with the pedestrian bridge to the Omni.

My sense of direction hadn’t failed me, but the sense of elevation wasn’t dialed in. With some adjustments, I found my way.

Then there was the way back.

I headed for the spot just as I remembered it. The car was there. I reached for the key and touched the button to unlock it. Nothing happened. I tried it a second time. Nothing. This was a late model Subaru Legacy. It was blue, like mine, but it had Massachusetts plates.

How could this happen? A car just like mine and parked in the same spot. This was too odd.

Maybe, I thought, I was a level lower, or could there be another section to the garage?

I took the elevator to the next floor up, but there was no blue Subaru where I thought it should be.

I queried a pair of garage attendants. There wasn’t another section of the garage in the direction of the state capital. I was looking at the traffic on Route 95 just as I imagined it should be.

I was running out of options. It was a helpless feeling. I walked the length of the level looking over the fenced railing to the parked cars below, and there was a blue Subaru. It had to be mine. I tried the key. It beeped. It was all of 15 feet away, but reaching it was a hike.

Next time I’m going to bring those breadcrumbs.