What. A. Day.
St. Patrick's Day is a time for great revelry and boozing in my family. After all, the Irish blood still runs pretty strongly through my family's veins. Some more than others. For instance, my cousin. Because I grew up with her always around, she is more like my sister. While she is fantastically beautiful, terribly funny, and quite outgoing, she can drink you to the floor. With style. And I, can handle maybe 2 or 3 beers an hour without blacking out. Not much for the Irish side of me. My almost-sister was coming up for a visit!
With that being said, Her car was towed from our apartment's lot late in the evening. Given what a good sport she is about everything and her ability to take in stride just about anything, it might have been okay. But take into account that she was in a place where she hasn't been before, meeting a potential boyfriend, booze and one certain Sister-In-Law of hers, the situation=drama. And I knew it as I was sitting on the toilet, peeking out the blinds discovering that my cousin and her SIL's cars were being pulled out by a large truck. And the Boyfriend laughs when he finds the blinds stuck because I was peeking out of them. I don't even want to know how much more complicated it would have been if we discovered the tow many hours later.
I got up the courage and walked over to the pub where they were comfortably reveling in the evening. And my cousin says, as she always does "Are you kidding me?"
SIL hears this and gets the female pissed look. I know, because I have done it more than once. She takes the news bad, which I expect...and my cousin...starts to cry. Which I have seen maybe 3 or 4 times my whole life. SIL calls the tow number, and after about 1/2 hour of furious waiting, tears, and reassurances, the tow company calls, and says: "$200 to get your car back."
SIL is so angry she will not look at me, and I lose it. These awesome people will never come visit me again because they parked in the lot and paid a ridiculously exorbitant fee for having a good time. Fantastic. I pissed off SIL, I made my cousin cry. Needless to say, my cousin didn't stay the night.
I'm still trying to figure out what the heck we're going to do. BF wants to call and yell at our landlords. For what? I don't know. Maybe hiring a tow company that charges fees that people in NYC don't even pay. They did tell us that people do get towed from the lot, but we have seen parties and their friends cars are parked there. And we never saw a single tow truck. This compounded with the fact that our kitchen ceiling looks like shit because the roof was leaking. We have let them know THREE times we want it taken care of over a 2-3 month period, and NO reply. Oh, maybe that our bathroom faucet STILL leaks, they said they repaired it, but it was untouched. How do I know? It still has the same problem as before. And the repair guy didn't believe me that there was a leak. You see, it only does it when you turn the hot to the cold. Not when you simply turn it on.
Augh. I'm tired of writing about this already.
I had a great day up until that whole shitty end.
Got up, made some awesome Irish soda bread, watched a parade while scarfing down Bailey's and coffee. Had a great corned beef, cabbage and potato dinner, And hung out at a pub across the street, all while not worrying about driving or anyone else driving.
I'm just pissed at myself because we told them that it would probably be okay if they parked there. And pissed that, in reality, there's really nothing we can do. The tow company didn't break any laws, and there are signs all over the lot. Pissed that Bf and I can't have visitors unless they move their car every 12 hours, or pay to park in a parking garage for a weekend. Pissed that this state is so people unfriendly. We knew that we never wanted to stay in this state.
Maybe we really have to get out of here. Sooner than we thought.