How to Park for Free

 

On Saturday, we wrapped up by 10pm. We recently changed our hours from 11am-8pm which means we get to go home a lot sooner. As I was driving away with Will I saw a couple of parking scammers in the car wash next to the building. I made a comment about how terrible these parking scammers are.

Then Will replies, "You know they have Studio No. 7 on their sign?"

"You're kidding right," I asked him. All sense of early leaving freedom gone out the window.

I immediately turn around and pull into the lot of the car wash. Sure enough, under Club Parking, Studio No. 7 is listed. I park and get out of my car.

"Excuse me sir," I said to the eager parking scammer. "I'm the owner of  Studio No. 7 and I'd like to know why it's listed on this sign." 

"Oh Studio No. 7, it's right down there," he says. "Parking will be $10."

"Er, no that's not what I said," I respond quite nicely. "I'd like to know why we're listed on your sign. We pay for our own parking so that our customers can park for free (unless there is a game at the Geogia Dome). AND we're not a club. We're not even open right now."

After a series of back and forth with him as he incredulously asks questions about where our parking is, I ask him to remove us from the sign. He insists he can't because his boss decides who goes on the sign. I ask for that guy's number. Somehow he doesn't know it. 

I walk back to my car in a fit of anger and tell him I'll remove it myself. He ignores me and goes back to attending to the people coming into the lot (car wash). I have no real plan as I try and find a sharpie or something close. As I'm searching around, Will mischievously and bright-eyed says to me, "Get in and pop your trunk, we'll just take the sign."

Brilliant! I hop in the car. Pop the trunk. And I don't even think about whether this is a good idea or not. About 30 seconds later I turn around to figure out why this clever deed hasn't been completed and I see Will struggling to fit this huge sign into my trunk. 

"It won't fit he says," and then he suddenly remembers that the back seats go down.

He pushes the sign through the back seat and scurries back into the passenger's seat. This all takes about a minute. We're obviously terrible at this. But we would have gotten away if it wasn't for that pesky parking attendant opening my front door as I tried to drive away. He nabbed us because as I was slowly creeping out the lot, I peered to my left and saw another sign! 

The whole debacle ends with him calling his boss (Yup, the one he didn't have the number to). I explain to the head scammer in charge why I took umbrage (this is my favorite word and I use it whenever I get a chance) with this as I meticiulously put duct tape over Studio No. 7 on the sign. He agrees to remove us from the sign.

As I drive away with Will, I come to my senses and realize how absurd the whole thing was. However, I don't have kids and Studio No. 7 is the closest thing to it for me. In that moment, it felt like like someone had written my two-year old's name under a heading that said: Milk Stealing Descendants of Hester Prynne.