On July 16, 1998, I wrote this to Kerry O’Brien in an email:
I paged him again at 1, and as of log-on, he had not called. Arrrggghhh! Why does my life suck? I’m going to move somewhere in the middle of the desert. I’ll be the crazy lady who lives just over that hill. I’ll have a little adobe house, and a blue rocking chair. I’ll have 2 or 3 lovers that show up at my door when I page them. They’ll massage my feet and make coffee. I’ll write long, profound novels full of deep, water-related imagery. I’ll wear straw hats.
Tonight, Kerry showed up.
We met for dinner in Porter Square. I got there about an hour early. I’d gotten an email about a thing with my Mom and I had to make a bunch of phone calls. Then I sat in Café Zing! and worked on an essay. Then I met Kerry. We ate falafel and talked a lot. Like we do. Then we walked over to Lesley so I could charge my laptop and participate in a Zoom call. Kerry stayed for a bit, then went home to Lexington.
I finished my Zoom and headed back to the parking lot. I was going to stop into Star Market, but realized as I approached that my car, which had been parked near it, had been towed.
TOWED!
OUT OF THE PORTER SQUARE PARKING LOT!!!
Here’s what you need to understand about the Porter Square parking lot. It says on the signs that you can only park there for two hours. But we all know that’s just so people don’t park there in the morning and head to work on the subway. Porter Square is a place where you hang out out. You go to the gym, you get coffee, you do some shopping. You’re rarely there for less than two hours, unless you’re doing a quick errand.
And they were towing at 7:30! While people were enjoying their dinner at one of Porter Square’s many fine restaurants!
Due to recent experiences, I knew who to call immediately. B&B towing confirmed that they had my car. To get it I’d need $170. In cash.
Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!
I went to the security booth, mad. The young woman inside said she hadn’t called the tow trucks, the other guard. She felt bad. She let me charge my phone, which was nearly dead.
I text Kerry:
She was already back in Lexington. Already in her pajamas. A goddamn saint!
Who needs lovers to massage your feet and make coffee when you’ve got someone like Kerry O’Brien to save you when you’ve been towed?
I swear it is the most out-to-get-you parking lot in the Cambridge/Somerville area.
You are FUCKING KIDDING ME. TOWED? From that lot, where I and everyone else I know park for hours???