I finally got through with tables last night at approximately 12:10 am. Seeing as I had been there since 2:45 pm the previous day, I just wanted to get in my car and come home. So, I walk to the parking garage. I walk to the second floor. I have my keys in my hand; I am ready to go. But there is one, small problem. I cannot find my car. I am certain I left it on the second level, but I don't see it. Figuring I must be confused and it must be on the third level, I begin to walk up the ramp. I walked all the way to the fourth level, and no car. I whip out my trusty cell phone and call my roommate.
"I can't find my car!"
"Where'd ya leave it?"
"Well, if I knew that, I wouldn't be wandering around the fucking parking structure, looking for it."
"Use the alarm and make it beep and find it that way."
GENIUS! I walk over to the edge of the parking structure, ,and press the lock key. Somewhere below me, I hear the faint "beep". Eureka! Since I am on four, and it sounds like it's right below me, I walk down...again. At this point, I run into Petra, the busgirl at my bar.
"Flaca, donde esta tu caro?"
"I don't know, Petra. I don't know!"
She laughs at me, and I just keep circling. Frantically pressing my alarm, and listening for the beep. Finally, after what feels like forever (actual time: 12:27 am), I find my car. Guess where it was? That's right, on the second floor. I walked right past my own damn car, with my distinctive stickers and everything. I tell Smang "Found it!", hang up the phone and finally drove home.
3 comments:
Let's just file that one under Dude Where's my car?
I done it too...
Petra has nicknamed you "Skinny?" =]
Non-GF: I was at the point where the tears are welling up, but you're looking skyward in an attempt to foil the crying.
Scannell: Actually, it was more Big Lebowski-style "where's your car, Dude?" and "it *was parked in a handicapped zone...perhaps they towed it"
Jeremiah: the kitchen staff at both the last restaurant and the current wine bar *all* call me "Flaca or Flacita".
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