Some Nights

Well, well, well...

Our story begins on Monday.

Monday. Oh Monday. Why oh WHY did this particular Monday have to happen to me? I pride myself on not having had any major traffic violations. No speeding tickets, tow-aways, accidents, DUI's or things of this nature. Until Monday... Monday I worked the morning shift and was off and home around 2. Came home, showered, ate, and was off to Sherman Oaks to apply for a catering company. A catering company is pretty ideal to work for as an 'actor' because you are on call, a majority of the time, make amazing connections and the pay is GREAT. First problem is the obscene amount of more traffic than usual. It takes me an hour to get to Sherman Oaks, which should only take me about 20 minutes, so I have now wasted time and precious gas trying to get to this place that is closed by the time I get there. So I turn around and head to 8383 Wilshire Blvd. to meet with a company called One Source Talent. As much as I would like to say that this company is a scam, they are real and actually have working 'talent'. Interviewed and was called back but had to deny because I had work AND improv during the time they called me back. Therefore I must 're-apply' in 6 months, which is highly doubtful. A blessing in disguise.
 Now, reading the signs in Los Angeles is CRUCIAL, let me repeat C R U C I A L, because if you do not, something like this will happen.
I park on Wilshire directly in front of the building. I completely peruse over the sign that says NO PARKING TOW AWAY ZONE and only see the sign that says 1 hour parking within the specific time limits. Always confusing. So I park here, because it said I could, try to pay the meter, but it wouldn't take my card, so I read the sign again and made sure that I could park here, COMPLETELY MISSING THE TOW AWAY ZONE SIGN. Frustrating as all hell. Go inside, fill out paperwork, wait about 20 minutes, sit in a room, watch the Devil Wears Prada for about 10 minutes, hear a schpeal from a small Asian man, meet a lady, tell them no, and leave. Basically. I call a friend to see what he was up too, walk outside and feel the absolute worst feeling in the entire world. Like walking up the stairs and thinking there's one more step, so you're in a second of free-fall, except 100x worse than that. Like that moment when you're really drunk and close your eyes dizzy about to puke but not just yet feeling. My car isn't there. What? WHAT!? It's stolen, I tell myself. Oh my God my car was stolen. (Is it bad that I thought for about .5 seconds that at least now I can get a new one?) I almost cry on the phone because I have no idea where my car is. Absolutely no idea. He tells me to call the police, brilliant man he is, and ask if it was towed and if not report a stolen car. I hang up and call the police. Turns out that confusing sign was indeed a tow-away zone. Turns out all of Wilshire Blvd. is a tow-away zone. Turns out I was officially in Beverly Hills. Shit.
The police tell me that I have to call the Beverly Hills police dept. and get my car and such. They give me the address and number. I call the Beverly Hills police dept. A towing company has my car but is, so obviously, closed and wont open until 7 the next morning, which is in 12 hours. My friends kindly pick me up and we go to the police station not to far from where I was to fill out the release papers. Of course my car isn't in my name because my parents bought it when I was a sophomore in high school. It belongs to them. Problem. The police station can only release the car to the owner of the vehicle. My parents live conveniently 1,600 miles away, so they are clearly not going to be here to sign the papers any time soon. Ironically I get a call from my mother as I am talking to the guy behind the glass and he says they absolutely have to sign and fax the papers back for me to get my car, they can't just talk to her on the phone. Because it could be anyone. Even though there is a picture of my mother, whom I look a lot like, and her contact name is Maja. That simply is not good enough. Fine. I take the paper and leave with a tiny bit of hope. One more thing. It had to be notarized. What kind of BULLSHIT is that!?
MIND YOU I work at 8:15 the next morning. It is going to take an act of G.O.D for me to get my car, and by the beard of Zues I'm going to get it. I have to. I need it.
Call my mom back. Tell her the exciting news, my cheeks blushing with embarrassment, feeling small and stupid having disappointed her, and my father, with such a event. Having to ask for money from your parents is the WORST, especially when you know they don't really have the funds. About a million times worse then the top of stairs step that doesn't exist feeling. I didn't ask them because I knew they couldn't. I asked my absolutely wonderful best friend/sisterwife/roommate for the huge favor and she came through. That's why we hang.
It's now 8 in the evening and there is nothing I can do about anything. I'm waiting. I'm still with my friends, because they are so kindly driving me around to these places since I don't have my car, we pick up some pizza, head back to the crib and chat for a bit. Can't do much at this point. I scan and email the doc to my mom so she can notarize and fax it to the police dept. in the morning. Oh Jesus. I bid my friends adieu, did the deed, counted my change and went to bed by midnight. Get a call from my mom at 6:08 a.m and it's off to the races. She needs info for the paper, give her that info, and she faxes it over. Wait. Shower. Eat. Wait. Call the dept. and they don't have it yet. Wait. Wait. Wait. Call again and they have it. Wake Britt up and we head out. Call my work to tell them I'm going to be late. They say I have to find someone to come in. That's a joke, right? It's 7 o'clock in the morning, who the hell is going to be awake if they don't already work? Takes us about 45 minutes to get to the dept. Get the papers. Leave for the towing company, another 30 minute drive. Get there, finally, now I'm expecting the bill to be no more than $250, $300 at most. Nope. To get my car out it's $378. There is a fee for storing, $40, a fee for towing, $150, and a fee for getting it out, $185, and stupid taxes too. What I paid is a quarter of what the damn thing is worth! Instant bad mood right there. I give the guy my keys, they pull it around, and OH, what's this on the window? A FUCKING PARKING TICKET TOO. As if towing the car wasn't enough, why not fine me some more Beverly Hills. They couldn't choose one? Either the tow or the ticket? Just because I was parked in Beverly Hills doesn't mean I have all the money in the world to pay for something that may seem as small as a ticket. If I was towed in Los Angeles, maybe a mile down the street, it would have been $100 cheaper. Wow. I shattered in the car. S H A T T E R E D I tell you. It was awful. What better way to make a person feel so small, poor and undermined than to fine them upwards of $500 in one day. One single day. And to have it all happen in 12 hours. Wow.

Next on the list. I call an hour before my shift to tell them I'm going to be late. I call again a half hour before my shift to say I am definitely going to be late. I get 2 calls in the same minute from my manager 5 minutes after my shift was supposed to start, I'm only assuming to ask where I am. Did he not get the message? NOPE. I get in to work around 9:15 and start making chips. About an hour into work he asks what happened, why I was late. Apparently neither of the two assistant managers told him I was going to be late. That my car was towed and I had to get it out. Cool. Thanks for the look out.

Did I do something wrong? If this isn't a sign that I need to work more, then I don't know what is. It's definitely a sign I need to open my eyes to my surroundings. Shit. So now I am on the serious hunt for a second job, unfortunately. My passion will have to be put to the side for a few months. I need to get myself out of debt and into some kind of financial security where if something like this EVER happens again, I am prepared. Jesus...

Besides this, I had my first improv class on Tuesday in about 2 years and it was magic. I was so happy to be thinking about something else, or I should say not thinking at all, just doing. I have been flossing a lot lately. About every other day. Who knew people actually did that... I jog now. On a regular basis. I make it a point to do it. I look forward to it. My goal is to run in the Nike Women's Marathon in SF this year. Feel free to donate to me! I have a lot of new goals after this little incident, but it was absolutely not a blessing in disguise. It was an awful thing to happen and I am still so angry about it, but the only thing I can do is smile and keep moving forward. That's all anyone can ever do. Life goes on, and it always will. Today was history. Tomorrow is a new day.

May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground and carry on...

<3