This time last year I was writing about the terrors of being detained in London. A year later, I find myself writing about the terrors of being detained in a parking garage.
Last week Stephanie and I went downtown to the Alamo Draft House to be a part of the Home Alone Quote-Along. The Quote-Along was awesome and the kazoo, toothbrush, aftershave, tarantula made for super fun props throughout the movie. The only aggravating factor was putting in multiple orders for our second All-you-can-eat cheese pizza and still waiting half of the movie before getting it.
The Alamo Draft House’s website suggested parking in the H&R Block parking garage and getting the ticket validated, so that is precisely what we did. We got our parking ticket validated after the movie and started to question things when we were told what to do if the machine would not accept the validated ticket- which it did not. After searching and searching for a pay station in the parking garage we finally found one and then it would not accept the validation. After no success with the intercom we called the service number, but had no success with that either as we were underground and our phones had no service to call the suggested number. Eventually, we just decided to heck with it and paid full price. Next, I pulled up to the gate to leave after putting my ticket in the machine, but the machine would not take my ticket. At all. After trying to fit the ticket into the machine a variety of ways not shown on the instructional picture it finally accepted my ticket. And then nothing happened. The ticket did not come back out and the gate did not open. Ever. I hit the cancel button and nothing happened. I hit the intercom button and nothing happened. I tried, I tried, I tired. Nothing was working. We were totally stuck in the parking garage. I even tried pulling up to another stall and nothing happened.
A nice young gentleman must have seen me crazily driving back and forth between two stalls because he came over and asked if we were having troubles. After recounting our underground experience thus far the young gentleman pulled out his phone and offered to help. Nothing worked, but we were not surprised. There was a line starting to form behind us, so I pulled out of the stall and told the car behind us to attempt to drive through and we would follow quickly behind if the gate opened. The gate did not open and they did not get their ticket back. The car in front called back to us to say, “I think you have to put your credit card in!” to which Stephanie and I just looked at each other. Bad idea. They did not get that back either and the gate still did not open. Somehow, someway, eventually those glorious parking gates opened and we floored it out after the car in the front of us.
Like a bat out of hell we made for the highway, laughing at our experience. Before making it to the highway though, we started to feel guilty for just leaving our parking garage friends behind when some had been so kind as to help in the beginning. After short deliberation we went back to check on our parking garage friends. The car in front of us had finally gotten ahold of someone and help was said to have been on the way to aid them in the return of their credit card. After affirmation that they were fine and thanking us for returning, we left again, never to return to the H&R Block parking garage.
Why these sorts of things happen when Stephanie and I are together I may never know or understand, but at least it provides material for good, long lasting laughs.
“I’m gonna give you to the count of 10, to get your ugly, yella, no-good keister outta my parking garage before I pump your guts full of lead!”
