Viewpoint by David Boyd/reporter
As I pulled up to my apartment last week, I noticed all the unreserved parking places at my building were full.
It was the night of the Dallas Cowboys’ disappointing playoff loss, and I guess there were more cars than normal in the non-reserved spots because some neighbors were hosting a watching party.
Left with a decision of either driving to another building at the complex or parking in a neighbor’s reserved spot under the covered area near my building, I opted for the risky choice. I rationalized that later in the evening after the lot thinned out, I could move my car to one of the free uncovered spaces.
My problem began with that poor decision. After I went inside, I busied myself with one task after another as I prepared for the first day of school, which happened to be the next morning. As the night wore on, I forgot all about the green Taurus I left in some minivan’s normal home. I even went to bed earlier than normal because I wanted to be energetic for my first day of the spring semester.
The next morning I woke up, got ready and went downstairs to the parking lot. No Green Taurus! I knew immediately what had happened. A quick visit to the leasing office confirmed my horrible fears.
The true owner of spot 164 had reported my violation to the police and called a towing service. I made some calls and tracked down my car. The gruff, alleged woman at the other end of the line coldly informed me that it would cost me $265 and change to retrieve my car.
Well, not holding anything close to a bartering edge and needing that car to get to school and work, I had to pay.
Unfortunately, all of my friends and relatives were either at work or at school. My anger swelled as I continuously failed to find a ride from my apartment in west Fort Worth to the maximum security car prison in far east Arlington.
Eventually, I got a ride from a friend. As we drove for what seemed like hours to my poor kidnapped Ford, my friend tried to cheer me up with thoughts of revenge. After all, it was evil for those strangers to have my car towed and for the tow truck people to charge an arm and a leg to ransom it.
He sympathized, but it was mostly like listening to one of those little devils on your shoulder in a cartoon.
Much like other members of my generation, if there is anyone or anything that has taught me any lasting lessons about life, it is probably TV. Sitcoms and cartoons have shown me life does not just happen to us.
Usually, we cause our own problems, which in this case I certainly did. Blaming others and then retaliating would have only made things worse. I paid the ridiculous ransom, rescued my car and decided to never park in a reserved space again.
It was a sad, expensive lesson before I even made it to my first class.
