Went to a party tonight, had fun, socialized. (For reference: I am at Stonecoast MFA program, staying at a hotel in Maine.) Came back up to my room, took nice hot shower, donned PJs, snuggled into bed. While waiting for my roommate to get in bed, I get a call from my housemate in Seattle. It’s 11:45 PM.
“Hi, Leslie.”
“Hi, Meg. Um, are you asleep?”
“Not yet. What’s up?”
“Nothing good.”
“…”
“Your car was taken…”
“!?!?!?!?!?!”
Long pause. “By the police.”
“?!!!!!?”
So, just before I left Seattle, my car, parked on the steep road beside our house in crazy blizzard conditions, had been vandalized/hit/whatever, it had a cracked windshield. My housemates suggested I move it. Finally, before I left, I moved it to the other side of the house (we live on a corner), between our house and the neighbor’s. (For reference: our elderly woman neighbor has no car.) I couldn’t tell where the end of her driveway was because of the snow. I left my keys with my housemates, and I asked them to move my car if it was parked too close to her driveway, when the snow melted. (For reference: I’ve never met this neighbor.)
Apparently, last night at 2 AM, she called and had my car towed, because legally in Seattle a car can be towed when it’s within 5 feet of a driveway. (!) The call I got was, “If you don’t fax a notarized letter to ABC towing authorizing release of your car to us housemates so we can pick it up within 2 hours, your fine will increase.” The current fine was $189.
So I found a notary available past midnight in Freeport, Maine within walking distance of my hotel, at the police station. I put on my sneakers (no socks–wish I’d worn socks) and my fuzzy thing and my coat over my PJs–which I would NOT take off. The world will NOT have the satisfaction–and walked about a mile (ok, ok, only about 3/4 mile), with hair soaking wet from my shower, in the freezing windy Maine night, to the police office. The guy notarized and faxed my letter.
I called the company and said, “Did you get it? Is it fine?”
“Yep, we got it. But there’s no stamp, so it’s no good.”
“Um, but he doesn’t have a stamp. He’s a notary anyway. Besides which, he’s a POLICE OFFICER and the whole thing is on POLICE STATIONARY.”
“We can’t accept it without a stamp.”
Fifteen minutes of haggling over the phone with the towing lady later, she GRUDGINGLY admitted (despite my having been super nice and patient with her–I was truly an angel, if you judged by the evidence of my phone voice alone) to look him up in the notary database (which she apparently HAD ACCESS TO, ALL ALONG!) and print out his qualifications herself, and staple them to his signed note.
At this point, I said, “Great. Let me pay the fine by credit card.”
“We don’t take them over the phone.”
“How about checks?” (Thinking: my housemate can write a check from my checkbook in Seattle.)
“No, we only accept credit card in person, or cash.”
Now, I wanted to have my roommate take all of my coin rolls from my room and pay entirely in coins. (They want cash, I’ll give ‘em cash! It’s the only cash in my room!) Unfortunately, she preferred to simply have me pay her back later. (Suffice it to say that I owe her.)
Then I walked back to the hotel. Did I mention I strained something in my hip earlier this week and it’s been painful to walk on for days? No? Well, it has. And I have class early tomorrow, and I am too keyed up from my bracing walk to sleep. And I was singing to myself on the way back and as I turned a corner there were these two Japanese guys taking pictures of each other (at 1:15 am!) in front of the hotel, and giving me looks like I’m weird.
Okay, I probably should have changed to jeans. But once I am in my pajamas for the night, by Spatula, I will not be sundered from them! So there!
