The world gave me a huge gift yesterday. First, let me start by saying that I'm on a completely new (and chill) rotation. No more having field pages at 3am, or, worse yet, having to go into the hospital to operate on the next incoming vascular disaster. I'm on surgical oncology. And while cancer completely sucks, it almost never has to be cut out at 3am.
Mondays are very relaxed on this rotation. The only thing we have to do is round on our patients and do morning clinic. Well, we didn't have any patients and clinic was canceled! I got some administrative things done and was home by lunchtime. Studied a little, had a good 4-mile run, and got ready to see a friend whom I haven't seen in months. She's a resident, too, so there's a reason. ;-)
We went to a little beach community that has a lot of shops, restaurants, and bars in a very compact space. Which doesn't leave a lot of room for cars. I searched and searched for a parking spot along the main road but was completely unsuccessful, probably because it was dinner time. So I ventured down a dimly-lit side street, found a spot, did a masterful job at parallel parking, and walked to the restaurant.
The food was great and we had a great time catching up with each other's lives. At about 8pm, we were done, and I slowly began to walk back to my car. I got sidetracked on the way; first into a cute little lingerie store. I don't usually go for those sorts of things, but this stuff looked cute and wearable . So I browsed for a bit, grabbed a business card so I wouldn't forget about it, and headed out. Next stop was a cigar shop. Daniel occasionally smokes a cigar... maybe a few times a year. Yesterday he had a particularly difficult meeting with a client, so I thought I'd get him something that he would enjoy after his long day. Total transaction time: about 3 minutes.
I'm slowly walking back down the street to where I parked my car. I noticed the flashing yellow lights of a tow truck. "That's gotta suck," I mused in sympathy to whoever's car was being towed. As I get closer, a panic sets in. Wait. Where's my car? Oh, there it is, being loaded onto the flatbed tow truck. Fabulous. Monday found me anyway. The police were there, too, because it was a narrow one way street and they had to divert traffic where the street began.
They explained to me that I had parked directly across some woman's driveway. She called the police, and they called the tow truck. The police asked them if I had to pay anything. They said $55 "drop fee." Which I found amusing because they hadn't even loaded my car onto the flatbed, so they weren't technically doing any dropping. If anything, I was the one who would be doing the dropping... to the tune of $55.
I handed the guy $60 and he tried to play the game of "Oh, I don't have any change." Bullsh*t, dude. You've got $5. As he was making out the receipt, I went up to the house that was attached to the driveway I blocked. I knocked on the door, so I could apologize for blocking her driveway. It was one of the waitresses from the restaurant! I don't think she recognized me, and I wasn't going to say anything because I didn't want her to make a stink about the two glasses of wine I had drunk. I apologized, she said thanks, and I left.
Oh, and the parking ticket is $50 for blocking a driveway. I think I may contest it. It was a very poorly lit street and there is no way I would knowingly park in front of someone's driveway. I am a stickler for following the rules of the road, just ask my most common object of backseat driving... Daniel. There wasn't even any paint along the curb to delineate it as a driveway, which is pretty standard around here. And, this has obviously happened to her before, given the rapidity with which she called the police. That would indicate that I'm not the only one who has problems seeing her driveway on that street.
I told my friend that the next time we go out, the place has to have it's own parking lot.
