A: my car.

because it had been towed.

i swear these signs are new:

i’ve never had my car towed, because i am a responsible adult who reads street signs and evaluates the risk of possible ticket and/or towing before deciding to park illegally (which, come on, we all acknowledge sometimes has to be done in the city). apparently my tired brain was unable to process the if-then clauses of this particular set of signs when i came home on saturday night. and at 1am there were still lots of other cars (okay some other cars) parked on the street.

lucky for me (in retrospect only), i’ve taken other people to get towed cars enough times that i knew the retrieval routine, and also had some good friend karma coming my way. all my plates/stickers/tags/insurance/registration/paper trail etc were in order, so it simply took waiting in line for an hour and paying the $160 Idiot Tax to restore my car to me.

c, to whom i am eternally grateful, dropped whatever she had planned for her sunday afternoon to drive me to the tow lot, waited with me in the grimiest cold drafty smelly sorry excuse of a towing office to get my car back, and then took me to brunch afterwards to cheer me up. friends are good.

if the city would just use my Idiot Tax to pave ONE POTHOLE in lake shore drive, i wouldn’t mind so terribly much.