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So we leave Music’s birthday party and head downstairs back to the car. When we get outside we all decide it would be cool to hit Happy Ending. I look around and then it hits me…
- P-Tyme: Dudes….where’s my car?
Right before Chef can tell me to, “Shut the fuck up” I chime in again.
- P-Tyme: Dudes..where is everyone else’s cars?
The group shuts up as we notice that all of the cars on the entire side of the street are GONE.
- Ra: Whoa!
- Chef: Whaaaat the fuuuuuuck
As we stand there bewildered, Chef turns to the valet
- Chef: Did a tow truck come by here
- Valet: Yes
- P-Tyme: FUCK!
- Ra: Wait the sign says we can park here
- Valet: Not that one
The valet points to one out of 3 or 4 signs that contradicts the others. It says there is NO PARKING HERE. Needless to say the signs conflict and are terribly confusing.
- P-Tyme: Well….fuck….Do you have the valet’s number?
- Valet: Yes
The valet gives me the number and I proceed to call Hollywood Towing. Luckily the guy was nice and told me that they had just received my car. He said he would be there throughout the night, so I could come in to pick it up at any time. He also let me know the cost to get it back was $250. Lovely.
- Studio: Fuck, that sucks dude.
- Frat Brother: Dude I’ll throw down some money for you, since we all thought it was a spot.
- Ra: Yeah
- Chef: Me too
- P-Tyme: Thanks guys
- High: So what do you want to do?
- P-Tyme:….well they have the car all night. Fuck it, let’s go to Happy Ending and get my car after
- Ra: Seriously?
- P-Tyme: Sure, why not?
- Chef: Makes sense
So a bunch of us hop into High’s car and met up with Studio at Happy Ending. We chill there a bit, but the night was a little slow, so we decide to get my car. We find the place and the guys help me pay for the charges. They charge for picking up the car, towing it, and keeping it for a day. Three fees that result in is paying $250. As we sit and wait for the car, High regales us with tales of how many times he has received tickets and been towed. Since most of us are from different states, we note how LA just doesn’t have enough space for it’s denizens. Oh well, that’s Hollywood for you.
Fortunately I got my car back and we all hit Del Taco where we order comfort food and are terrified by the drag queens walking about.