Because sometimes all you can do is laugh . . .
Here's my true story, written in novel format :) You might want to read this at lunch with popcorn and your door closed. You just might laugh that hard.
*Some names have been changed to protect the innocent, aka, so people don't get mad at me if this gets on the internet, lol. Any rhyming or similarities are strictly coincidental
Dancing, dancing, dancing!! Watch her get down, watch her get down, watch her get down. There we were, twirling around on the dance floor for hours, in celebration of my birthday. We were all set to leave when they played another cool song. So we mamboed to the exit, getting one last hip wiggle as we left the club. It was crowded outside as every other club in the vicinity was closing at this time too. My feet were a bit sore, but I was SOOOOOOO glad that I had carried my flats with me. I don't know how these other women do it, after about 30 minutes my feet were already hurting, but I thought to myself - must look cute, must look cute, keep heels on. About an hour after that, or maybe 2, I finally gave in and put the flats on. It was well worth it.
So the group is all walking towards the same place, and one by one we'd drop people off at their cars. Charletta's car was up first - she was my ride. And we walked a bit further then we thought we had parked; gone too far and stopped. Where's the car? My first thought was that perhaps we parked a bit further up. My friend was like, No, I parked it right here. So then I'm assuming maybe it got stolen. Her assumption was that it got towed. Wow, they really do that? I thought. I had never been towed before, and I remember seeing other cars here (which I guess also got towed). Funny thing is that I remember getting the spot - it was a perfect arrangement. We were driving down Chestnut street and saw no parking, when we turned onto 2nd to make the rounds. There was a spot in front of a motorcycle that was a little tight. But we went for it, and conveniently the lady in front of the spot was getting out, so we had it all to ourselves. We had just finished dinner and were excited to get the dancing part of our evening on. We parked, got out the car, and went into the club, not even noticing the No Parking sign that must have been up. Well this sucks. If you have never been towed, there are no instructions on what to do or where to go, it's like you should just KNOW what to do. Fortunately (and unfortunately at the same time) I had friends that have been in this situation before with us. Reba says to me "Oh, just ask the cop for the number and he'll give it to you." So I walk over to the cop. Mind you Charletta (she drove) is livid and I can see the anger on her face. Well Mr. Copman is pretty nice but he's just spewing information at me. He tells me the phone number like I'm going to memorize it, so then I take out my phone to write it down. Then he gives me four page instructions like I'm going to remember that after I call the place. They should really carry cards or something.
Anyway, I call the tow place and they ask for the make, model, and license plate number for your car (Good information to know by heart, by the way). We give it to them and they confirm (rather happily) that they have the car. So Reba offers to take us down there to get the car. Mind you they close at 3am, and it's like 2:15am, so I'm a little antsy. We get to the car place and they have the stupidest system. There are three lines. In the right most lane is where you verify they have the car and make the payments for the towing fee. When you are done with that you go to the middle lane where they see the receipt and need to verify your registration and insurance (which are probably in your car, so then you have to go to your car (escorted) to retrieve them). Line 3, which we almost didn't see, is when you have everything cleared and you are picking up the car to go home.
In right most lane is an attractive guy. He is giving my friend all the forms and such. At some point my friend is in Line 2 and I'm leaning on the counter of Line 1. He randomly says "Cutie Pie." I look up and say "Are you talking to me?" He replies, "Yes." All I can do is laugh, and say thanks. Then he says "What is your phone number?" And being the coy girl that I am, I ask, "Is this part of the process?" He laughs, as does the coworker next to him and says "It's not part of [the car pick up] process, but it's part of ANOTHER process" Beyond words. I'm just cracking up that I get hit on in a tow station at 3 am in the morning! I have to move so he can help the girl behind me and I go outside (Charletta is still handing paperwork) and tell Reba - should I go for it? She's like sure. And I'm like - it's my birthday, I can do whatever I want!! (lol) So I go back into the office, write my number and name on a tiny piece of paper and try to get his attention, but there's someone he is helping. Hmm, how am I going to do this? Well the pen that I was using belonged to the tow place, so I slipped him the pen and my number and say "Here's your pen back" {wink} He got the hint and took the paper, and I walked away smirking. (I'm so slick, right? )
Charletta is on the phone with her insurance company. Apparently she didn't have the newest insurance card in the car at the time and they won't let you go until you show them that. (Note to self - as soon as it comes in the envelope make sure to put it in the care!!). Well it's 4am on a Sunday morning and of course the website is down for maintenance, so access to records is not looking good. Reba and Marques had just left because we didn't want them waiting around and we thought we were good. In the meantime I see this fine looking guy sitting against the window (new guy, not Line 2 guy). Everyone in the tow place is kinda funny because we are all stuck here and no one wants to be here (seriously, you could actually compare it to being in jail). Well there was this Asian chick sobbing her heart out. Loudly. We all felt bad for her, but everyone was mumbling under their breath "Could she cry on the side of the line and move it along?" and "Dag, she sounds like someone died." It was quite amusing. Then this other girl is fighting with the workers at the window because she owes like a dollar on her car. She says "I'm a poor college student. I don't have a dollar. I eat Ramen [noodles]." So me and this fine window guy are laughing to ourselves, and making eye contact and smiling. The seat next to him opens up so of course I sashay over there and sit right next to him.
"What are you in for?" is my big opening line - I'm sure I said it a little classier; maybe batted some eyelashes. He tells me that his friend had also been towed. His ethnicity looked very ambiguous to me so I ask him what he is. He tells me he's Costa Rican. I ask him if he speaks Spanish and he does. Little by little I'm getting to know Mr. Window guy. I overhear the guy next to me saying that was his brother. "That's your brother?" I ask him "Yes" Then I overhear something about a wife and kid. I ask Mr. Window guy if he has kids and he tells me he has a little son. "And a wife?"(add slightly disappointed tone) "Yes" "Well where's your ring?" (slightly hoping he was joking. Yeah, yeah, I could overlook the one kid thing). BAM!! - there it was!! A little piece of metal that I had neglected to see from the other side of the room. "Wow, I did NOT see that" I say to him. He smiles and looks very flattered, but sigh, there's goes another one. I did apologize for hitting on him given that he was married, but he says it's ok (of course he does, so suave) and we continue talking. As the conversation continues I learn that he's from Cherry Hill and works on BMWs. Of course him and his wife have a Beemer. I poke him with my elbow and ask for a hook up! (worth a try, right) He asks me what I do and I get into my side gig of writing. He sounds interested so I give him my blog address. Who knows if he will check it out. But let me tell you, if this guy were single . . . cuz he's just GORGEOUS!!!
Back to reality - we are stuck at the towing place because we can't get the car, so I call Marques to see if he could pick us up and he's such a sweetie and says he will. 20 minutes or so I say bye to Mr. [married] window guy :( and we are on our way. I FINALLY get home around 4am and sleep until past the break of dawn. We finally did get the car Sunday afternoon. The guy who asked me for my number (Line 2 guy) texted me. I asked him name? kids? age? and the 3 kids kinda ruled him out. And then we got the car and we went to IKEA.
Not a bad way to spend at the tow truck place though, right?
~moi~
Photo credit: http://img512.imageshack.us/img512/1857/30060705sn1.jpg
That was a very interesting story. Too bad both the attractive guys had kids. I'm following you now.
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