Tow Tow Tow My Car

So yesterday, I was thinking I might write a post about how Amazon now sends me suggestions for books like: My Life as a Night Elf Priest: An Anthropological Account of World of Warcraft (Technologies of the Imagination: New Media in Everyday Life).  And the best part about this is that when I get these suggestions, I don’t think, “What the heck?”  I think, “Oooh, sweet!”

But then, Dan went to go run to grab some groceries because I needed to get on a conference call with a professor and… he couldn’t find the car.  Where was the car, anyway?  Oh, crap.  See, Saturday night when we got back home from the Veggie Institute, there were no parking spaces where we normally park, so we parked in front of our house.  This is okay on the weekends, but on the weekdays (for some bizarre reason) you can’t park there from 7-9am each morning.  Well, Sunday came and went and we didn’t ever leave the house.  Then on Monday, I walked to work at 7am (I leave through the back door) and Dan works from home (and also sleeps until 8am).  So, there the car sat and we forgot that we needed to move it.  Apparently at 7:10, it was towed.  This is funny to me because when there were a bunch of cars that were illegally parked in our lot, we couldn’t get a tow truck here to save our lives, but ten minutes past 7 and we are towed.  Anyway, we made some phone calls and found out that the impound lot was closed until this morning at 9am.  I freaked out a little because I had to leave for a meeting out in the suburbs at 11am and I had no idea how long this process would take.  It was also crappy because we REALLY needed groceries.  Don’t get me wrong, there are two grocery stores within walking distance, but it kind of sucks to have to carry groceries more than a few blocks.  Dan was nice enough to walk down and grab us just a few items for today while I took my call.  This made me think, again, about how good we have it, even having one car.  Many people have to take the bus or walk much further to get their groceries all of the time.  It’s hard to remember how spoiled we are (Dan and I generally, but probably most in this country).  I mean, it was inconvenient to get our car towed, and the $210 fine was crappy, but, in the grand scheme of things, it was a minor incident.

Luckily, Ben didn’t work until 11am today, so he picked me up right at 9am and took me to the impound lot.  I paid the fine and the guy at the desk sent me out to the gate where I had to press a little button and give another guy my license plate number over an intercom.  He told me it was in row 4.  I told Ben that I would be fine, so he left.  I found my car in row 4 with some white numbers written on the driver’s side window with white shoe polish (which was impossible to get off later).  As I walked toward the car though, the same voice from the tiny intercom came over the much larger speaker system and, in a deep raspy drawl said, “To the lady at the gate, PULL ON THE HANDLE.”  I stopped for a minute, not sure if it was for me, and looked around.  Then, I saw some lady who apparently couldn’t figure out how to get out of the gate.  So, I kept walking and a truck came up behind me.  I tried to get out of its way, but I think he was confused about where I was headed.  He finally drove up beside me and a mechanic-type in the front seat shouted, “Did I scare you?”  “No, sorry.”  I said as I made my way to my car.  I opened the door and threw my purse in, but I wasn’t sure if I could just leave, so I shuffled my feet and looked around, sort of hoping that The Voice from the intercom would tell me what to do.  It didn’t, so I finally got in the car and started to drive slowly (I think I was afraid the police were going to jump out of nowhere and tackle me).  I opened my windows and got to the end of Row 4, but had no idea which way to turn.  I sat for a minute and finally, “To the lady in the white Honda, you need to make about a 180 degree turn.”  I craned my neck and saw an open gate waiting for me.  This was getting kind of creepy.  I felt like I was on the Starship Enterprise, except the impound lot was talking to me.  I headed toward the gate and just as I was leaving, “Thank you for visiting the Columbus impound lot.  Have a nice day!”

Oh, and I made it to the suburbs in plenty of time.