Terror

A little bit from last night. Norman and I were walking back to my car from the Santa Monica Promenade. I usually park in the city garage #4 on the fourth floor. Since four symbolizes death in most Asian countries I should really be wary of it. But I’m not a superstitious person. Once we walk up the stairs, I did not see my car. I started thinking of reasons it could have been towed. Were my tags expired? No. Was anything wrong with the car? No. After futilely searching for my car I concluded that it was stolen. I started walking down the stairs to see if the parking lot attendants saw my car. As I started down the stairs, I looked over the perch and saw a sign reading: “Entrance for City Garage #2”. I’m a fucking idiot; I went into the wrong garage.