Sunday, May 15, 2011

I think I'm getting a scooter....

It finally happened. My little jeepy jeep is no more.  I walked outside of my apartment this afternoon around 3 and had planned on going to whole foods to get a bottle of wine, a mango Kambucha and a chocolate chip cookie. That is, until I found out that my car was not where I left it. In my mind I retraced my steps from the night before. I got home at 4 am.. I probably shouldn't have been driving. I went to park my car on the street outside of my apartment and I remember being compelled to take it around to the back and park where I usually do. Figuring the less time I spend in the car the better,  I forfeited the effort of looping the block and crossing Ventura Blvd.


I paid the registration, but because I don't have insurance the DMV hasn't sent me the tags, but I registered the car in my dads name and he does have insurance, he just happens to live in Florida. When I paid it the DMV told me that the tags would be sent to my dad and that he'd then have to send them to me... I didn't realize they just weren't going to send them.

So I walk outside and my heart is panicking a little. I walk back through the courtyard to check the back culdesac preying I was just too obliterated the night before and in fact had only dreamed I had parked in the front, I knew it wasn't the case before I turned around to walk over and check but I went anyway, if only to take a few paces to catch my breath. It's not there. A black woman and a man with a European accent carrying small furniture start walking towards me from the outside, I hold the gate open for them and try to smile as they walk by me into the apartment complex.

 Inside I don't know whats going on, I start to think my car was stolen Oh fuck, haha everything I own that matters is in there, wow if this is real this is going to suck; my bike, two fur coats, my tennis racquet, two wetsuits, a tent, a blow-up mattress and pump, $700 riding boots, and a grip of other things.... 

My friend Jake was on his way over to pick up some ***** from me, he got there a few minutes after I discovered the loss of my automobile, the climax of my break-down. I was shaking a little, but overall I surprised myself with my composure.
"Dude I think my car got towed or something, I'm kind of freaking out"
"Oh shit I'm sorry, are you sure it wasn't stolen?" he said.
"Ya that crossed my mind too, I don't want to think about that, can you drive me to the tow yard?"
"Yeah, where is it?"
"I don't know," I say "Can you drive around to the other side so we can see if there are signs that show the towing company?"
"Sure."

I walk through the courtyard and wait for Jake in the front. There are no signs naming the towing company. One of my neighbors is outside, her husbands pulling the car out of the parking lot so he can drive her to work. I look at her deciding I have to say something since I probably look like a sad scowling spazz. "Do you know the towing company over here? I parked my car here last night and when I came out today it was gone..."
"No honey I don't, what time did you park it?"
"Four"
"Let me ask my husband, I don't know why they would tow it though there are no signs saying you can't park here.."
"I know, but my registration is expired and I'm still waiting on the tags"
"Well I think they usually only ticket for that, are you sure it wasn't stolen?"

No all I'm sure of is that it's gone! Other than freaking me out more, they prove to be of no help... you'd think that adults over the age of 40 might be able to add a little insight on how one goes about rectifying situations such as these... I get in Jakes car and we drive up the block until we find a sign, it says to call '311' for information on towed vehicles. I call and get a recording that spews all these numerological options at me, but my head is too full to process what they're saying. I look up ahead on the whitewall of a shopping center and I see a sign that says the tow company's phone number. I call, another recording. My brain is unable to focus. Jake gets the address. I tell him I'm getting nowhere with these stupid recordings...

"Can we just go there?" I say, with significantly less composure than when I first got in the car, before all the nets & never-ending recordings started tripping me up.
"Ya whatever you need, I just have to be to Westwood by 6..." he said.

The whole drive there, in my mind, the possibility of my car having been stolen is increasing, I've lost everything before and I was okay, it was freeing, I don't need all those things; but fuck! How am I going to move to Venice next month and work in Van Nuys if both my car and bike were stolen???

"Could you see all the stuff in the car from the outside?" Jake asks.
"Ugh, unfortunately yes, is hot wiring easy???"
"Ya, you just rip of this steering compartment," he says as he points to the area around the ignition "and  then you cut these two wires and touch them together, they spark and all engines go; but, usually cars are stolen around 3 or 4 am, you got home at 4 right?"
"Ya"

We finally find the place. I go in alone. I find out they have it but they won't release it to me until my dad faxes a letter and some other bullshit; and then I need to get insurance so the DMV will lift the hold on my registration.

"So my car was impounded today, Saturday, and there's nothing I can do until Monday?"
"Yes ma'am it seems that way" one of the clerks says, as another comes out and brings me a bottle of water... Jake comes in as I'm calling my dad, he tells me if I need a ride to work the next day he'd take me. I say thanks and smile, "I don't think I'm going to go I have finals all week and I have to teach an aerobic excercise class monday morning, it's to get my aerobic instructors license, oh fuck, I have community service after class monday... Oh well at least my car's here and not stolen, haha there's always a bright side."

As we leave the tow yard I look up at the sky layered in white clouds and see a fan of subtle rays escaping beautifully through a crack in the ceiling, it makes me feel calm. I call my dad again trying to find out if one of his friends is still selling their scooter, I need to find a new mode of transportation....
"Ya Naka still has it, call her I'm dealing with things with the IRS and my shoulder surgery...You should just leave the car in there, I mean how much is it worth anyway?.." he said.
"It's worth about two thousand," I say as I start to consider his advice, and then I remember that he's never even seen my car.
 I call my mom and ask her what she thinks I should do, "I don't know what to tell you sweetheart." "Well  can you add me to your insurance for a month or so, I just need it to get the car out so I can sell it?"
"No, you need to get your own policy."
"Okay..."
"Good luck, let me know how things go" she hangs up.


No comments: