Cool Party
So yeah, I think I’m gonna change the title of my journal to
This is a very Chicagoesque post. Chris Libby and Tom Bellino, you will like this. Both of you for the pure Chicago of it and one of you because it’s a story that might happen in your life. The other because you might find it fun to laugh at my misfortune, since we aren’t real good friends.
This was a night that I really hated Chicago, but in perspective, they saved my life.
So, I started my night with a call from Justen Perez while I was at work. "Hey, I’m having people over, whatchuupto?"
So I got off work around 9 and went home. I knew my clothes were dirty so I threw them in the laundry. I was definitely going to go out because I didn’t go out last night and I actually haven’t been out in awhile. Leave it to my nights to totally suck when I do go out. Be it really disappointing or extremely upsetting, the nightlife of Freddie = hurrah!
I then ate 3 cans of tuna. Yum. Does a body great.
Justen called me at 1015 to say he got my message I left at 915 asking if he was still having people over. I told him that I was up for comin’ down and chillin’ at his place with some other people.
My clothes weren’t dry yet cause I never pressed the start button so I took a shower and got ready to go. My clothes were dry when I was ready to leave. Isn’t that interesting?
I left and drove down to Justen’s. I parked a block west of the entrance on Madison Street on the South Side of the street. Since I thought I was in front of the building, I opted for the spot 8 spots west of the corner rather than 2. I thought I’d be closer to the door. I was actually farther away. GO OBSERVATION!
Anyway, I called Justen to tell him I’d meet him at the security doors since his phone wasn’t working and they wouldn’t be able to call him. He came down and got me with I can’t remember who and we went back upstairs. OmG wE wErE aLl WaTcHiNg SiMpLe LiFe 2!?!WU TVUIYVB@ oMG! And drinking…
So I drank.. and we smoked. A fun time was had by all. In the course of about 3 minutes everyone but Justen, 2 other ppl and I left but it seemed like forever. I kept looking at the clock and getting worried about something. They ordered Chinese food or something? It sucked that’s all I Know and we payed the lady with 40 bucks and a raspberry smirnoff twist. Drinking on the job…what a wonderful delivery driver. Makes me feel all warm inside. Like Jameson.
Anyway, when there were three of us left and Justen was cleaning up and the girl was sleeping, I decided it was time to go. It was 3 o’clock. So I walked down and out of the building to my car. I don’t remember the walk, but yeah that’s the shit that happens after 7 bowls.
3:05AM: Well, my car wasn’t there, and the last 4 cars closest to the intersection of Madison and Jefferson were rolling away on 2 trucks. OMGZFUCKINCOOL!
If there is any feeling I never want to have in the pit of my stomach again it’s the pain of knowing the city of Chicago just took my car away on a towtruck. Holy shit the horror stories associated with that. So I did what any drunk/high person would do (not really, I actually did something very logical). First I read the sign to make sure it was legal for me to park there "Tow Zone - No Parking Dec 1 - Apr 1 3AM - 7AM IF MORE THAN 2 IN OF SNOW ON GROUND." Okay, it’s February 20th, at 3:05am with 1/8th of an inch of snow on the ground. Ha. I win. Now where’s my fucking car? So I immediately start thinking about how to prove myself in court. I called Justen (who was definitely passed out already, thanks) and asked if I could come back up and if he had a camera I could use to take pics of where I was parked. He wanted me to go back into the building and call up, even though his phone was broken…??? He obviously didn’t remember in his shape. So I went to the desk in Presidential Towers and as I was negotiating with the lady to get back up to Justen’s, she verified that I had read the street sign wrong and that it was OR 2 IN….. blah blah blah…
So I was like, "Well then I guess I need the number for the pound, not Justen’s room."
The kind lady gave it to me on a 3x5 post it! How convenient!
‘The 103rd Street Car Pound
773-568-XXXX’
Oh, I feel fanfuckingtastic right about now!
I immediately get on the phone and start yelling. Well guess what, my car wasn’t there yet, and when it DID get there, it’d be a half hour til it got in the inventory so I could pick it up. So I now realize it could be forever ‘til my car even gets there. What do I do? I turn, literally, into RJ. ‘Uh yeah, that’s not gonna work out for me. See, I work for the city - department of entertainment services (ahhahahaha it’s actually special events…my bad!) and I just got out of a function and now my car is gone. **bullshit coming from other end** Sorry, hun that’s not going to work out for me. I need my car back now. This is fucking ridiculous, I had a placard in my window. You need to call that tow truck and have him bring my car back right now. **Sorry sir, we cannot do that** Well then I’m going to get my office involved because this is just outrageous. And you better believe I’ll have yourself and the driver terminated.’
So I didn’t know what to do. I tried calling RJ to see if he could do anything which no offense hun, but you couldn’t have. I went inside and called my dad, who didn’t answer. I talked to the security guard to see if he knew how much a cab to 103rd and Stony Island would cost me. He didn’t know but I figured it’d be about 40 or 50 bucks. So I figured it was about 200 bucks to get my car out of the pound and about 50 for a cab ride. So I, while scrolling through my phonebook and randomly walking down some hallway, stumble upon an ATM. I checked my balance and then sat in the little secure area it was in. My dad called me back and asked me what was up. I wasn’t going to tell him but then again I realized I woke him up with the first call to tell him in the first place. He told me to call the city and make sure that’s where my car actually was. I told him how they wouldn’t be able to tell me because it took a half hour to inventory etc. He said "NO make sure that’s where it’s even going!" So I hung up and called 311. The lady on the line told me my car was going to the impound on lower wacker. HALLELUJAH!! Not too far away. At least I could get a cheaper cab fare. But then she goes, "Which side of Madison were you parked on? North or South?" I told her I was on the south side. She goes, "Oh, then you aren’t at the Loop pound, you’re at the 103rd pound. And I’m all the one at 103rd and Stony Island? She confirmed. How Chicago is that? The street that starts the north/south numbering also divides something like that. BEWARE, if you park on Madison in or near the loop, make sure you’re on the north side of the street. It’ll make your already inconvenienced night more convenient.
I went back to the ATM, called my dad, called the impound again, this time being cordial, to find out exactly where they were. I hopped in a cab after verifying that it would only be 45 bucks or so to get down to my car.
I had a nice conversation with the cabby who couldn’t really speak English, so it was more like having a conversation with myself.
We got off at Stony Island in what seemed like a minute later and started driving around looking for the place. The cabby got lost, so I called the impound. We weren’t too far but we had passed it. We went back and I got out of the cab. -$40.
Walked into the swanky little trailer they have their "office" in. The ladies recognized me by my voice. "The silver neon right?" Oh great. So I started being really nice. Cause I was really mean on the phone. They took care of it really quickly. While the girl was processing my paperwork, I looked at a sign to the right. "If you want a court hearing for having your vehicle impounded, you must ask at the time your car is processed for release to you." So I asked. Apparently I have to come back with a notarized letter to have them schedule a hearing. You better fucking believe I’m doing it. -$160
But it doesn’t stop there. I walk outside, hand my pink receipt to the lot manager who in turn remarks, "Oh the first victim…" Damn fucking right, I’m a victim. It was only about 4am. I was really proud of myself for how quickly I took care of it all. He goes, "Ya got your keys?" Reach in my left pocket, nope. Right pocket, nope. Wow…..what an awesome night. I left my fucking keys on Justen’s table. The guy goes, "How’d you get here?" Cab. "Daaamn…Well, that guy right there *points to truck over yonder* is headed back up if ya wanna go with him." --thinks about it-- "I’ll ask him if he’ll take you if you want." He’d do that ? "He’s a real nice guy, he wouldn’t mind." Okay.
As we’re walking toward the truck I happen to reach into my shirt pocket. BINGO! KEYS! Honestly the best thing to happen to me tonite. So I ask the guy where my car is, as he starts pointing and talking I see it and go "Yeah, I see it" and cut him off.
I ran to my car and it never felt so good to open that door and get in.
I drove out of the lot and talked to the guy at the gate as he handed me back my pink receipt. He was actually a really nice guy.
Sang a bunch of songs on the way home with the iPod on and the stereo at full volume.
Fuck Chicago and its crazy abyss at 103rd and Doty. But in thinking about it, they really saved my life. I was in no condition to be driving when I went out to get my car. It was kinda good it wasn’t there.
Ugh, it took me an hour to write this? I'm going to bed.
Oh and I left the cool orange writing on my car's glass and the cool scanny sticker. I figure it looks pretty ghetto, and that's the image I strive for