One day in April 2000 (or maybe 2001), I was on my way to the Dodgers Opening Day game with Barry, a guy from work. Barry had borrowed his girlfriend's 80-something Volkswagen Scirocco and driving down Sunset Blvd, just before Elysian Park Avenue, the clutch blew out. Barry managed to make a left turn and parked the car on Lilac Place, that little road just behind the Warehouse Shoe Store, for you Angelenos who know the area. "Balls!" I cried. "What are we going to do now?" "We're going to the game," Barry answered, looking at me as if I'd asked the stupidest question ever. So we trudged up the hill (no easy feat for this out-of-shape asthmatic) and when we got into the stadium, Barry bought me a beer. Then, we enjoyed the game, trudged back to the car, called the girlfriend and AAA and that was that. I would like to thank Barry for teaching me one simple lesson: Shit happens. Don't let it ruin a good time.
I don't always take that advice, but on Friday, when Jamie decided to be a bitch and blow a spark plug--AGAIN!--just before I was about to turn into the parking lot at The Grove, I heard Barry's voice. I got Jamie to drive up to Beverly Blvd, looked around at the parking signs and seeing no "towaway zone", left her there. Then I walked back to The Whisper Lounge at The Grove and had drinks with Slackmistress and Betheboy and an assortment of friends, old and new, for Will's birthday. Because I clearly wouldn't be driving, I had two chili-mango margaritas (like fruita in a glass). I know, I'm wild! Then, I calmly got the valet guys to call me a cab ("you're a cab") and came home.
Max wasn't in yesterday, and having no alternate options, I left her there. Today, I took the bus, which got detoured up to Melrose before it diverted back to Fairfax and Beverly, then walked to Beverly and Gardner to find Jamie safe and sound, with surprisingly only one ticket on her windshield. Since the side streets have street cleaning days, I decided she was safer on Beverly. I'll have to figure something out, though, because I'm sure she'll get towed sooner or later. Bonus: The Knockout Tacos truck was right behind her (at Pan Pacific Park) so I was able to get some delicious Rolled Carnitas which made all the walking and waiting for buses much more bearable.
Shit happens. But why does it have to happen so often?
I don't always take that advice, but on Friday, when Jamie decided to be a bitch and blow a spark plug--AGAIN!--just before I was about to turn into the parking lot at The Grove, I heard Barry's voice. I got Jamie to drive up to Beverly Blvd, looked around at the parking signs and seeing no "towaway zone", left her there. Then I walked back to The Whisper Lounge at The Grove and had drinks with Slackmistress and Betheboy and an assortment of friends, old and new, for Will's birthday. Because I clearly wouldn't be driving, I had two chili-mango margaritas (like fruita in a glass). I know, I'm wild! Then, I calmly got the valet guys to call me a cab ("you're a cab") and came home.
Max wasn't in yesterday, and having no alternate options, I left her there. Today, I took the bus, which got detoured up to Melrose before it diverted back to Fairfax and Beverly, then walked to Beverly and Gardner to find Jamie safe and sound, with surprisingly only one ticket on her windshield. Since the side streets have street cleaning days, I decided she was safer on Beverly. I'll have to figure something out, though, because I'm sure she'll get towed sooner or later. Bonus: The Knockout Tacos truck was right behind her (at Pan Pacific Park) so I was able to get some delicious Rolled Carnitas which made all the walking and waiting for buses much more bearable.
Shit happens. But why does it have to happen so often?
2 comments:
We would've given you a lift!
I hope your car troubles have been fixed. I love the title of your post - When life gives you lemons, use them to garnish your cocktails. My new motto.
Best - Hester
Post a Comment