This past Friday, I went out of my way to steal a car from my parents – before they could realize what was happening – and drove it to my apartment. I then spent the next six to seven hours congratulating myself on finding an optimal parking spot right on my street. “You’re so great, Alyssa,” I said to myself. And I had to agree. With myself.
The next morning, I woke up bright and early, stretched like Disney’s Cinderella BEFORE she became a princess, waved to some birds who did NOT wave back (rude), and skipped down the steps of my apartment building to admire last night’s successful parking job.
But, wait! What’s this? The car was…GONE! It was like it had just walked away in the middle of night, or, perhaps only slightly more likely, had been towed by the city. “You are less than great, Alyssa,” I said to myself. And once again, I had to agree. With myself.
So, I did the only thing a responsible, independent, and fully grown woman who lives alone could do: I called my dad. After an excessive waiting period of disappointed sighs, he informed me that he was, “with the dog.” I didn’t really see how that was relevant to my situation, but understood when I heard the dial tone.
And so, armed with only a sliced apple snack, and a wad of cash, I took off on a magical journey with my old friend Falcor to the end of the Earth to steal my car back from Mayor Bloomberg.
If you haven’t been, the Manhattan tow pound lot is located on the bottom of the Hudson River. Upon my arrival, I was forced to fork over my life savings ($185.00 in Sacajawea coins) and then told to sit.
And wait. When my name was called, I was asked to get into the back of a cop car, and then was driven to my vehicle. During this ride, I tried to lighten the mood, asking the cop if I could just pick out any car I wanted. He said, “Sure.” And paused. “Then try to get out of this parking lot without getting shot.”
I asked how often people did get shot in this parking lot, but he pretended not to hear me.
I drove the car back to my parents’ house in shame. When I got there, my Dad asked, “What’d you do? Park in a no parking zone?”
And you know what?
I think that’s exactly what happened.