watch where you park.

if you can't read, or don't want to read, do not park on the streets of downtown nashville. i repeat, don't park there.

we had a great photo shoot this weekend, the shots turned out great and i can't wait for you all to see them. (they will be up at HarshMedia soon - and i'm sure i'll post them here as well.)

things were going great, until we parked in downtown nashville.

around 3:15 pm, i put my change in the meter on 4th avenue and sauntered off to the shoot location. around 3:45 pm i strolled back to my car to head to the next location, but found an empty parking spot instead.

i checked the meter. time still on the clock.

then i saw the sign.

"no parking 3:30pm to 8 am."

as i was trying to figure out if someone stole my car, or it really got towed, it hit me. was the tow truck guy sitting within sight when i parked, greedily rubbing his hands together and laughing viciously? like a lion ready to take down his kill. i'm imagining him with evil green eyes, just cackling as i parked and either couldn't or just didn't, READ.

you must know me to know how strange this is. i read every sign. i obsess over where i park. this never happens to me.

so we traveled way across town (what, you have to drive 20 minutes to pick up your car that got towed from downtown - is this part of the punishment?!) to the metro impound lot.

a sea of glistening metal.

(if you've never been there, and just happen to be in the area (why, i don't know), its worth a drive through. a culture experience.)

there must have been thousands and thousands of unclaimed cars surrounded by razor wire. the lot attendant told us that these were cars that had been involved in a crime. this many cars have been involved in a crime?! i must live a sheltered life.

since our car wasn't involved in a crime (although it should be a crime to tow my car without my knowledge or knowing where it went), we were then directed to a small wrecker service down the road on the edge of nowhere-ville. a fenced in lot with cars strewn in no particular order.

"wallet robbers", the sign said.

just kidding, it didn't say that. but maybe it should have. (no offense to the tow truck drivers out there, you guys are great when i need you. just not so great when i don't.)

there she sat, locked in prison amidst the chaos.

we entered the "office", which had no windows and reminded me of a bathroom stall at the county fair. the guy at the "desk" (i imagine him to be a Bubba or Jim Bob) was all too pleasant when he swiped the credit card and charged us $65 to post my car's bail.

she was free, once and for all.

hopefully this story of heartache and suffering will keep you from the same mishap. but if you ever do get lucky enough to land yourself (and your car) down at that wrecker service again, tell Bubba/Jim Bob that i said hello. and i really hope not to see him ever again.

no offense, of course.