Guys.....Where ARE we?

Every once in a while, I find myself in a situation that leads me to ask "Where are we? Is this America?????"

I don't mean that in the "What has happened to this country?", patriotic, Sarah Palin-ish way. I mean like, literally wondering if  I have wandered into a third-world country or maybe onto the set of a not-very-funny sitcom.  My most recent out-of-geographical-context experience was this past Tuesday when, between the hours of 10:48pm and midnight, I found myself in Wile E. Coyote meets Dangerous Minds meets Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist with some Deliverance thrown in.

Law and Order scene-change music  BUH-bum!

10:48pm  September 21, 2010  
Parking lot outside The Social
Orlando FL

The four of us were in a fragile mental state after spending 4 hours in a dank night club thrashing around with hundreds of hipster weirdos listening to music while drinking beer and tequila.  Imagine our confusion when we went back to the parking space expecting this:

But instead finding this:

Honestly, we were not all that surprised or confused.  I'd like to keep lying and tell you that we were totally blindsided by the whole "The car is gone" thing, but really I think we were almost expecting it.  Rewind to 4 hours and 51 minutes earlier.

Time Travel Worm Hole

BUH-bum!


5:57pm  September 21, 2010  
Parking lot outside The Social
Orlando FL

 Fresh as daisies, we jumped out of the car ready for action!  Approaching the parking lot ticketing machine, the following conversation ensued.  It might not be word for word, but my memory is pretty much a steel trap, so I'm sure it's extremely accurate.

ME:  Hey look!  The parking here is only $5! That's awesome!  That leaves me so much extra money to donate to my many charities! 

MOE:  That sounds awesome!  Derp Derp!

CURLY:  Do you think the ice cream man comes around this time of night?

LARRY:  I hope you guys have cash because I don't.

MOE:  The machine is broken.  We can't pay.

LARRY:  Let me try kicking it a bunch of times impotently.  That should solve everything. 

CURLY: Even just a Snickers bar that has been in the refrigerator would do the trick. 

ME and MOE:  It's our lucky day!  The universe has smiled upon us at last!  Free parking a-go-go!

Four hours and 51 minutes later......

 Obviously we knew there was a chance we could be towed or ticketed or something, especially in light of the huge sign right next to the parking space telling us that if the machine was broken we either had to call some number or not park there lest we be towed and impounded at our expense.  Seriously though, who has time to be reading all kinds of signage and calling all kinds of phone numbers?  Is it really our job to single-handedly fix the crumbling infrastructure of Orlando, Florida?  I don't think so.

All the same, ACTUALLY getting your car towed and impounded on a crazy night out of town, far from home, with three idiots was like slipping on a banana peel, or having an anvil fall on your head.  I knew it was possible, but just seemed too cliche to actually happen.  I think it was the cartoonish nature of the whole thing that kept us all calm.  How can you get upset when you're pretty sure you're in an episode of Seinfeld?

If you've ever watched Sex and the City and thought "That's so unrealistic", then you have obviously never hailed a cab.  The activity is every bit as glamorous and cosmopolitan as it looks on TV.  What is neither glamorous nor cosmopolitan is where the cab dropped us off.

BUH-bum!

11:32pm September 21, 2010
The Impound Lot
Deliveranceville, USA

If ever I have found myself in a location that I would rather no be, this was it.  After sliding our cash payment through the tiny slot in the bullet proof glass of the impound office, we were simply told

"Meet me around back."

"Around back" turned out to be a disgusting cartpath with a row of meth labs and brothels on one side and a 10 foot chain-link fence on the other side blocked off with black corrugated plastic sheets so no one could see inside.  Promises of protection offered by my three companions did not exactly inspire confidence in the face of  roving gangs of crack-addicted transvestite prostitutes.  I was fashioning a shiv from my ticket stub and tree sap when a section of the fence opened outward and the impound lot guy uttered yet another informative and helpful directive.

"There you go."

And there we went. There we went into the lot that at first I thought was paved with gravel, but then realized that I was just stepping on an uncommon amount of broken glass.  The guy didn't even follow us in there.