Blonde Justice

Welcome to one of my biggest blonde moment to date:

Tuesday. I walk home from work downtown. I have to go to the library, so I go out back of my building to get my car. And...

Oh NOOO!! It's not there!!! I panic. Where the hell's my car??!!

I think and think and think. And then I remember - I parked it downtown.

THREE DAYS AGO.

Yes, friends, I parked my car on 10th Avenue downtown, Sunday morning. I was on my way to work at the museum after brunch with Misha. Normally I would park at home and walk. But because Misha was heading downtown as well, I just parked close in. I said, "Misha! Don't let me forget I drove today!" He almost called me at 5 that afternoon to remind me about it, but he thought , "Naah, she'll remember."

And now here it is, Tuesday at 5 pm. I call the impound lot but they haven't seen it. But first, before I find this out, I have to go through this humiliation: "Ma'am, do you know your license plate number?" "Um, I think I do --- just tell me, do the letters or the numbers come first?"

So I go downtown, I pass by Misha's place of business and take him along with me. After all, he was there when I parked it, he might as well be there when I picked it up. And sure enough, there was El Toro, the only car on 10th Ave., with a sign that warned of towing at midnight on Tuesday.

On the windshield was a $20 ticket. That's it. You can't park legitimately for that kind of deal. And as if that wasn't amazing enough -

The back door was unlocked.

My car sat, unlocked, in a shadyish neck of the urban woods, for THREE DAYS, and all I got was a $20 ticket.

I am the luckiest, if dumbest, bastard around.

Feel free to share your own blonde memories...

- Falcon