My good buddy has season tickets in the Club section at Minute Maid Park for the – in case you’re unaware – two-time World Series Champion Houston Astros. When he asked me a while ago to pick a game to attend with him, I chose last night… the finale of three against my boyhood favorite Texas Rangers. Since my allegiance switched from hometown to H-Town more than 20 years ago, I thought it would be fun to see them play each other.
The ’Stros jumped out to an early lead thanks to a three-run homer by third baseman Alex Bregman. Then the hard-hitting Rangers started pounding the ball and quickly it was 9-3… in the fifth inning… with the bases loaded. “If this next guy hits a grand slam,” I said, “you won’t hurt my feelings if you want to leave.” One pitch later: Crack! At 13-3, we made our way out of the stadium and walked three blocks to my car.
“Two Hours Earlier” (TV action show graphic)
When we pulled into our parking spot, my friend scanned the QR code and used his iPhone to pay the $30 fee, plus $2.10 service charge, then took a screenshot of the ‘Paid’ receipt… ‘just in case.’ The parking lot attendant was nearby, so I asked: “How do you know who paid?” He said: “We get a list of everyone’s license plate and it shows us.”
“Present Day” (again, TV)
As we approach our CR-V, I say, fully knowing the answer: “What is that attached to my wheel?”
Sure enough, there is a yellow boot on the front left and a white piece of paper under a windshield wiper with the number to call to get it removed – along with a note that the fee is $100, plus towing company charges, and the usual response time is one hour. “Good thing there wasn’t a no hitter and we got here two hours from now,” I say.
While I call dispatch to explain this misunderstanding and figure out how to get it removed, my buddy walks up and down the aisles looking for the attendant.
“Fast Forward” (yet another TV reference)
He arrives five minutes later with the guy, who naturally has no idea how this happened. He even takes out his list to show us our license plate isn’t on it. Amazingly, they had just called the towing company to ‘boot’ another car. That gentleman walks over and says: “You’re lucky. I was at home on my couch.” In 15 seconds, the boot and he are gone.
We get in, speak about how late it could have been… and are home in 30 minutes.
“Epilogue” (final TV analogy)
The next day I called HPD and spoke to a polite officer who apologized. “We have two companies that service the city, so it won’t be hard to find out what went wrong.” I thanked him and said: “This was just a little inconvenience for us; I don’t want it happening to anyone else.”
