It all started off as a harmless Friday evening. Newman, Ranger, myself and some others decided to go out for a little culture. Casablanca was showing at The Paramount at 7:30. Afterwards, maybe grab a bite to eat at Casino El Camino and stroll over to The Velveeta Room for some free drinks and a couple of hardy laughs.
All went according to plan. We also managed to see two pairs of breasticles for free and were pushed around by alot of old men on motorcycles, as this was the weekend for some sort of Cycle Convention. It was an extra plus, if you will.
After we got our drink and laugh on, Newman, Ranger and myself headed back to the Secret Parking Spaces.
I don't know if you've ever been to Austin. I also don't know if you are aware of Austin's incredible lack of parking when visiting the "Nite Life That Is 6th Street." Needless to say, parking is a bitch.
However, after my many efforts to find easy and safe parking that was close to the clubs that I performed at, I was clued into The Secret Parking Spaces. It was just off of 8th street, secretly disguised as an alley, but man oh man, this was no alley of shame! It was a parking oasis! 20 spaces. Usually all of them free. Well lit. Only homeless women slept on the benches, so I always felt pretty comfortable parking there alone and returning alone hours later to the confines of my car.
Tonight was just like all the other nights I've used The Secret Parking Spaces. I pulled in, saw that Newman had already partaken of the parkay-in and left my Honda Hot Rod behind for a Friday night of Ladeeleroy debauchery.
Returning nicely buzzed, but still stable enough to drive, Newman and I rounded the corner that enters into The Secret Parking Spaces and discovered that it was empty!
Empty except for one last car that was being towed away.
"FUUUUUUUUCK!" I screamed.
That's when Newman, who instantly concluded that our cars had been towed mumbled something under his breath that communicated that he would go and track down Ranger so that we could be given rides home.
However, I was not in the mind frame to figure out how I'd be returning home. I was in the mind frame of being upset that, after living in Austin for 6 years, my virginal-never-been-towed-cherry had just been popped.
I walked up to the tow truck driver and said, "Did you tow my car?"
"Depends. Was it parked here?"
"Yes. It was a blue Honda Civic."
"A little blue honda?"
"Yes, it was probably the one that was screaming at you 'Don't tow me! My owner is broke and is spending her last dollar on booze!'"
(Chuckling)"Yep. I think I towed that one."
"Aw, man. You towed my damn car. Aw man. That sucks. That sucks so hard that it hurts. My car's in car jail."
(Handing me his card)"Here's the number you can call to make sure that it's there."
(Reading card) "Big A Towing?"
"Does the 'A' part stand for 'AssholesWhoTowedMyCar'?"
(Chuckling again.)"That's what we're sometimes called, yes."
(Realizng that this guy is just doing his job)"All right man. All right. Fuck. I'm just so pissed because I've parked here for two years and never have been towed."
"The owner of this business here called an complained last week and wanted to take action before all the bikers parked here."
"Do you know where the owner's car is parked and the closest Egg farm may be?"
(Chuckling again) "No. No I don't."
"All right man, take care. Thanks for towing my car."
By this time, Newman had tracked down Ranger and we caught a ride back to mi casa for a closing night porch swing and smoke.
The next day, Lipman took me to Car Jail so I could bail my Honda Hot Rod out.
It looked so sad in there. My poor baby was parked next to cars that had suffered roll overs, T-bone accidents and frontal collisions. It would be the equivalent of locking up a 12-year-old with a bunch of corpses in different stages of decomposition.
My Car: Damn, LadeeLeroy. Get my ass outta here. I'm all scared and shit.
Ladeeleroy: I'm so sorry, Honda. I'll get you out. You just remain strong.
My Car: Shit, you owe me for this one, bitch. My ass better be getting waxed and I better be getting some lubing all up in here because my shit is scared. Look at that motherfucking Jeep over there! It ain't got no headlights! It's been staring at me with it's non-headlight face for the last 14 hours. That shit is scary! Scary!
Ladeeleroy: Be cool. Be cool. I've got your bail money right here. I just need to pay the lady and you'll be free again.
My Car: Then what the hell are you doing standing there jibber jabbering with me for? Get your stupid-ass-parking-in-wrong-places-self over to that booth and you pay the fine to get me outta here, bitch. Go!
So I walked over to the booth, paid a fine of $121.24 and sprung my car from Car Jail.
Tomorrow, I'm going to take it to it to the Car Spa and give it a good scrub. I'm also going to check its trunk and muffler pipe just to make sure that some kind of funny business didn't occur while it was out of my sight.
Damn Car Jail inmates. Trying to get fresh with my Honda Hot Rod.
Sick. Sick sick sick.