Rarely do I misplace anything. Sure, I might bury important paperwork in my backpack or place the Apple TV remote in a different spot, but I never misplace stuff.
Especially my car.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
I was flustered Wednesday afternoon around 5 p.m. driving into rush hour traffic Downtown looking for a place to park.
I pulled into the far right lane of the Boulevard of the Allies near Market Street to park on the street.
It’s very clearly marked that parking is not permitted between 4 p.m. and 6 p.m. But other vehicles were parked there already.
I sat there for a few minutes contemplating what to do.
Scared of the threat of being towed and the clock not being closer to 6 p.m., I moved my car to Third Avenue and Market Street.
Fast forward to my dinner meeting ending. I agree to take one person home.
Upon reaching the Boulevard of the Allies and Market Street, I calmly kept pushing my car’s unlock button. Nothing.
Still calm on the outside (but just about freaking out on the inside), I call the parking authority. I get the tow company number and call.
The woman asks where my car was. I tell her. As I’m on hold, my mind is racing and it starts to unravel my steps just about 2 hours prior.
It slowly hits me that I didn’t park on the Boulevard of the Allies.
The woman said they had no cars with my description and none that came in from that area in that time.
I tell her I think I might have parked on another corner. She laughed and said to call back if I didn’t find my car.
Turning the corner onto Third Avenue, I’m clicking my car button nonstop until I finally see the lights blink.
I might have gone crazy, but at least my car wasn’t towed!