This is a tale of horror, incompetence and comedy.
I was getting ready to take my grandmother to her acupuncture appointment and went to get my car. I was looking and looking and couldn’t find my car. Fuck. Either my car was stolen or it was impounded.
Now I couldn’t think for the life of me why my car would be impounded. The registration is current. It was parked legally. There were no temporary construction no parking signs anywhere. So it must have been stolen. But if it were stolen, shouldn’t there be shards of broken glass littering the sidewalk and street?
I went to my apartment’s management office to see if they heard anything — nothing. The LAPD Harbor Division gave me the number of their tow yard. Nothing. My double checked with the LAPD Harbor Division. Nothing.
I think my car has been stolen. I'm on hold with the LAPD Harbor Division to see if they have any record of it.
— Jimmy Bramlett (@JimmyBramlett) June 23, 2015
All signs pointed to my car being stolen. What other explanation is there?
Before calling the insurance company, I decided to walk around the neighborhood to look for it one last time. Perhaps the people stole it, realized what a piece of shit 2002 Toyota Camry it is and just dumped it. Perhaps someone pranked me and moved it elsewhere. I mean, that did happen to me once in high school.
So I walked. I walked down a block. I walked up to Ralphs. And there it was. Right in the middle of the parking lot was my car. My stupid fucking car. It dawned on me what happened.
One thing that gnawed on me throughout this episode was I couldn’t remember exactly where I parked my car. I park on the same block everyday, and I usually remember exactly where it is. But I couldn’t remember this morning. I just knew it must have been parked there because I always park there.
What happened yesterday was I needed to move my car from the parking garage to the street and decided since I needed to go to Ralphs I would just be lazy and drive there. I parked, went to market and walked home leaving my car in the lot. That’s why it wasn’t on the street this morning, and that’s why I couldn’t remember exactly where I parked.
So there is the incompetence and comedy. The horror?
I am 36, and senility has already hit me. I am so beyond fucked.