Be glad I’m not sharing the live video I did (and then deleted) on Facebook about this situation (that you don’t know yet). I know, I know… I should have kept it. Woulda Coulda Shoulda! There will be lots of *those* in this story.
I decided to write about it instead since my face was a big, red, sweaty mess. There’s a reason, as I say, so let me explain.
It all began with my mammogram. I didn’t want to get it, not because the test hurts or anything – it’s my health anxiety and all about the results, as I’ve explained a bazillion times around here.
I went back and forth and finally decided that yes, I’d get ‘er done, as I should.
My car is not running so it was the bus or my husband’s car. He had to reschedule some things but worked it out. I would take his car.
We know it costs to park in the lot at the hospital and there’s a huge parking lot attached to the business complex across the street, so decided to park there and walk.
I left early and took my time. I stopped on the way and got an iced tea. And as I walked to the hospital, I stopped and took a picture of some bright, pretty flowers.
I was so early, in fact, that I asked the front desk of the imaging clinic if I should leave and come back. She said I’d come at the perfect time, actually. There was nobody waiting and they were about to go to lunch.
Less than 1/2 hr later, I was heading back to the car… but not before taking my “featured photo” which was in a neat display case of antique medical equipment. I mean, c’mon… who doesn’t love this stuff? LOL Imagine a dentist coming at you with those pliers! But I digress.
I stopped to smell some rosemary on the parkway and even asked another woman heading across the street if she smelled it. It was pungent!
Now, I don’t know what happened to the other woman… but here’s what happened to me.
You may have figured out the ending to this story but don’t ruin it for everyone, okay?
I walked to the parking space where my husband’s car had been just 30 minutes before and it was gone.
I know it was there – just that space in front of the light post. There. It was not there.
I could freak out, of course. Or, try to take hold of my anxiety which had just peaked nicely…
I called my husband.
“Um, I have some unpleasant news. Your car is missing. At least, it’s not in the spot where I left it.”
“Oh God, I bet it’s been towed.”
“Towed? I was thinking stolen.”
I told him I’d go into a business and ask if they’d seen a tow truck and get back to him.
Long story short, yep, it had been towed.
“There’s a sign – down there,” the woman pointed at a sign I had passed BEHIND. Yep, seriously. I walked along the grass line and never saw the sign. There was a phone number to call at the bottom. You know, if your car got towed.
Here’s where the story gets… oh, I don’t know… entertaining.
I’d driven my husband to work. He’d said to keep his keys, which I had. I needed to find a way home and he needed to find a way home, too, but I had to be there first since his keys were in the house, along with his house key.
It’s hot and humid (about 100% since it was raining this morning) and I walked a bit and then opted to wait for a bus. I had $6 and hoped it was enough to get home. The “bus portion” of my story lasts about… oh, an hour. By the time I got home, my face looked like a giant strawberry. That’s when I did the video. As in: The moment I got home. I was laughing deliriously. It was sooooooooooooooooo funny. Except not. See what I mean? So, I deleted it. You’re welcome.
But the story doesn’t end here. Of course not!
Blah, blah, blah… the number I called could not give us the impound charges. You had to go in person to find out.
Yada, yada, yada…
The impound charges were – get ready – $280.
It may as well have been a million. We don’t have it.
But seriously $280????
Yes, ma’am or sir! Can you believe that?
All to save $10 on parking.
Haha. Remember my delirious laughter? I mean, c’mon, you can’t make this stuff up!
So, to recap… my car is broken down in the driveway. Husband’s car is in impound yard. Need $280 to get it out. We don’t have it.
And the very best part? It all of this happened in front of someone he works with… since he couldn’t very well walk to the impound yard.
What to do?
You don’t want to know.
YOU. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. KNOW.
Selling your soul works best in the dark. Shhhh… it’s a secret.
There was humiliation involved.
A few tears.
And two numb people separated by a lack of transportation. <<<That would be me and my husband, in case you didn’t catch my poetic attempt at subtlety.
Yeah, so he now has his car back. I had my mammogram. And we’re $300 in a hole that we dug ourselves. Fun times.
At 60 years old, you’d think I’d know better. And of course, I do. I had that niggly feeling I get when I’m not sure it’s a wise decision… but I did it anyway.
PS: There’s also this yucky feeling about those towing guys… like ambulance-chasers… watching on security cameras for someone (like me) to eff up. That just stinks. On ice.