Automobile Short Story #3!

So I have been mulling around about which story to tell next regarding my adventures with automobiles and my awesome luck with them... I'm totally innocent in this one for real, and for once, child.. Oh and you just cannot make this stuff up either!! This also happened in my 20's, but here in Brooklyn. As I said before, I love Manhattan and if I could, I would live here forever, but, our space is getting cramped, so who knows where we will b in the next couple of years. Not that we are leaving New York by any means. Also I'm still in my Carrie Bradshaw phase, for real... My Brooklynite friends are always trying to convince me to move back. They are all like "You can have a car and everything is cheaper here!". And I'm all "No way Jose!".. And this is the reason! Oh yeah and by the way and for the record, I'm not all about dissing about where people live and those who do are lame asses and need to get over themselves... So there...

Picture this child, middle of January 2004, and my ass has to go to Philadelphia for a Visual Merchandising Manager's conference for the weekend. At the time, I was working for Diesel USA and had been with the company for about 4 years. Helped open the Cherry Creek Store in Denver previously, and had by this time transferred with the company to New York. Was working at the Lexington flagship store and Just started going out to Long Island to work at the store out there, which required me to have a car.. Good thing I kept my car when I moved out here, otherwise that would have been a nightmare and daymare of a commute, like 2 hours each way child...

Anyways mates, the meeting goes really well and I actually had a great time!  It was a nice break from the store, mostly because my manager was a total bitch.  She was the type of evil whore that acts nice to you in front of other employees but then when it is just the two of you, she ends up being mean, critical, and micro-manager.  Also, for some reason, she was also condescending to me and it had to do with the fact that I had just moved from Denver.  Estupida!  Little did she know!  So then, back to the story.  I take the train back to New York on Sunday morning because I have to work late afternoon! (And by the way, everybody else who was at the meeting had Sunday off! See I told you my boss was lame!).  "No biggie! I'll just head home, drop off my stuff, and drive out to Long Island!", I say to myself.

So I get back to my apartment in Williamsburg, get ready and then walk down to the Williamsburg bridge to where my car is parked.  As soon as I turn the corner I look down the street and my car is not there!! So of course I'm all, "Where the fuck is my car?!" So what do I do you ask? I call the police to report my car stolen, and get this, they are all telling me that I have an unpaid parking ticket from a month prior, and that my car was probably towed to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and to contact them.  So I do and they are closed for the day.  But then I'm all "No way, my car is a 1994 Acura Integra (only 70,000 miles on it) and I know that those cars are a target for parts from kids who like to supe up their Hondas or Acuras!  Someone stole it for sure I think".  So I call the police and tell them to get their asses down to where I am at so I can make a police report. Reluctantly they do and show up an hour later, and of course they can't even tell me if my car was towed or not.. Uggh, so they fill out the report, and then I head home and call off work...

But then child, as I am at the apartment, the wheels start turning in my head and I'm all, "Wait! What if my car really has been towed, then I need to go online and find out if I have a parking ticket because they probably won't let me get my car out without proof that the ticket has been paid."  So of course I call my friend in Manhattan to see if he is at home because I hadn't had the internet installed at my apartment yet.  So I find out that my homie is there and he tells me it's cool to come over and use his computer.  Werd, so I get ready and head to the L train.  I get to the L train and of course, they are doing maintenance on the track and the train is not running all weekend.  So I am all "Great, now my ass has to walk all the way up and catch the G train, take it to Queens, transfer to the E, and head into the city that way!"  So I head up north on Bedford towards the Nassau stop.

This is where it gets more nightmarish.  I cross North 11th St, and as I am turning my head to see if there are any cars coming, I look down the street and about 100 feet away is my fucking car!!! "How the fuck did it get here?!" I say to myself.  So I get real excited as I walk towards it only to find that the whole inside has been stripped!  The seats and the center console are gone! Oh and get this, my stereo and CD 6 changer in the trunk is all intact! Weird.  They completely sawed through my club on the steering wheel, stole the car, stripped it, and then left it in the same neighborhood.   So I get the thing towed and I say "Fuck it, I am going to sell it on craigslist now!"  So I do and the hellish commute commences, which doesn't last too long.

But as I always tend to move forward and try not dwell too much on the past, (Could you imagine if I did!? I'd probably be real depressed! haha) I totally look at this whole drama for your mama event in retrospect as a blessing in disguise.  It actually made me look for a new job in the city, which I found not too soon afterwards, and no more evil boss either!

So the moral of the story is, well here are your choices!

A. Don't leave your car parked under the Williamsburg Bridge.

B. Don't work for evil whores!

C. Drive to Philadelphia, don't take the train.

D. Park your car in a garage when you leave town..


Oh wait!  here is picture of my car that I found online....