2002-07-25 9:45 a.m.
Adventures in Bureaucracy (part 1)
My car ran away this morning.
Well, it didn't run away, per se. It had help, from the local police and their evil towing minions. And TheBoy is never allowed to bring his motorcycle over here again.
TheBoy had his motorcycle stolen from in front of my apartment several months back. Last night, with courage supplied by a borrowed cable lock (so that he could lock the front wheel and chain the back wheel to a street sign), he brought his bike over. But he was still antsy; as I went to go to work this morning, he said, "Call me if my bike's gone."
So I got down there and gave him a call: "Well, your bike is still here..."
After much standing around, looking puzzled and wandering up and down the street ("Are you sure you parked your car here?" "Are yousure your bike was parked behind my car?") a chain-smoking neighbor and his wife leaned off his balcony and explained what happened.
I called the city and I get to go hither and yon to recover my car. Oh, goody!
Here's where having so many unemployed friends and family comes in handy: I called my brother, explained the situation and threw myself on his mercy. "I so owe you. I really, really appreciate your helping me out with this. Let me know what I can do to make it up to you." So he's heading over here in a bit to help me get my car back.
A few minutes after my initial conversation with my brother, the phone rings again.
"I'm about ready to go. I've thought about what you can do for me."
"OK, name it."
"You have a Noah's near you, right?"
"Yup."
"Can we stop by there? You can get me an Egg Mit and orange juice."
"Sure, it's a deal. Give me a call when you're downstairs and we'll go score you an Egg Mit."
"And OJ."
"And OJ."
More tales of sibling bonding and bureaucracy-induced trauma later.