My car got towed yesterday. To the local car pound, where all abandoned cars go. My car just happened to be in a no standing zone when the clock struck 7 a.m.
Briskly walking to my car yesterday morning, hoping and praying that there's no line at Starbucks. This is my biggest worry in the morning - Will there be a line at Starbucks that makes me late? So you can imagine my dismay when I realized that my car was missing...removed from the place I had left it.
This friends, is Obstacle #1.
I stand on the corner for 10 minutes, in disbelief. I regain my composure and call 3-1-1. There's some number pressing, followed by automated voices, followed by more number pressing, more automated voices and some hold, hold, hold...and more hold. Finally, a person. For whatever reason, I have my license plate memorized. I find out my car has been taken to 38th Street and 12th Avenue. I am given the phone number to confirm this. I confirm that indeed, my car is there. Overcome Obstacle #1: excellent telephone communication skills had by all.
Obstacle #2.
I am standing on 2nd Avenue. That is, for you non-New-York-City-Knowledgeable-friends, ALLLL the way on the East Side of Manhattan. It is now 8:00 in the morning. Peak rush hour. I contemplate taking public transportation for a millisecond, and then raise my arm to hail a cab. I think that I will never get a cab to take me over there. A cab pulls over, I get in, and I immediately ask if he'll take me over to the West Side. He obliges. Overcome Obstacle #2: Major walking crisis averted.
Obstacle #3.
I sink into the cab. I call my boss to let him know I've been deterred by the New York City Traffic Unit. I expect it to be awhile. The cabbie and I cross Manhattan. We chat. He is laughing. I am smiling. This cab ride is good. The cab doesn't smell gross. I am happy. My stomach is rumbling. I wish I had gone into the Starbucks. 20 minutes later, I am standing on the West Side Highway. Overcome Obstacle #3: tackled Midtown rush-hour traffic.
Obstacle #4.
I begin looking for my phone. I cannot find it. I frantically search through my bag on the West Side Highway with the whir of traffic. I still cannot find it. I contemplate the thought that I may be hit by an oncoming vehicle. At this moment, I do not care. I've lost my phone, and my day has not even begun. I dare a car to hit me. I begin to cry. I finally find my phone. It was in my purse. Overcome Obstacle #4: common sense put into action.
Obstacle #5.
Cannot find the entrance to the car pound. End up hanging out with mounties, see lots of horses. I'm afraid. I now realize heels was a bad choice. Have to walk forever to get to entrance. It is dirty and smelly, but I am there. A man is there with me. He also seems upset but I suspect that this happens to him often. He knows the routine.
I give a disgruntled woman my license at the window. I thank the Good Lord that I have the same last name as my mother, who registered my car. I wait. I pay $185.00 at the next window to a happier woman. I am instructed to go through a door and down a ramp. I arrive in another dank, depressing, cold, smelly office. This one is full of men, who are masquerading as some kind of police officers. They log me in some kind of massive book, and I am instructed to get into a police van. I'm hesitant.
A fake police officer drives me to my car, and asks me how much I pay a month. I tell him. I grab my new $115 no standing ticket. I get in my car and speed off.
I'll be at work by 10:00 a.m. Whew! I'm feeling pretty good now, sitting in my car, eating a banana, chilling to the radio sounds....
I park on the street and go into work.
Six and a half hours later, I come out of work, relieved to be done. I start up my car and drive down the hill.
Guess what was on my windshield? A $165 ticket for parking in a pedestrian walkway.
