Prior to Saturday night, my all-time record for "losing" my car in a parking lot was 25 minutes. But I had a good excuse for that one.
It was July, 1989, and I took my then-girlfriend to Six Flags Magic Mountain for her 17th birthday. That parking lot is huge, and everything looks the same unless you remember your section. My girlfriend, who had been really, really into me throughout our brief relationship, abruptly decided she didn't like me anymore, for literally no reason. After treating me poorly throughout the day, she dumped me at about 7pm. I didn't realize at the time that this was common for teen girls to do, and I was devastated by it.
When I dejectedly walked to the parking lot to make the sad 55-mile drive home, I realized that the location of my car had slipped my mind, due to all the stress. I walked around for 25 minutes like a chump, and somehow finally located the damn thing. In hindsight, I'm surprised it didn't take me hours to find, because the lot was huge, my car was common, and it was starting to get dark.
Fast forward almost 25 years.
I had various other mental lapses in parking lots since then, but I always resolved them in a relatively short period of time.
I had just busted out of the second flight of the Millionaire Maker, and got a message from Matt the Rat that he was about to get on the shuttle bus back to Bally's where he was staying, and asked if I wanted to stop by. I told Matt that I'd meet him at the shuttle stop and I'd drive him back to Bally's myself. So I went and found Matt, and we got in my car to Bally's. We were talking about all sorts of crap, and I just kinda zoned out and ignored where I parked the car. All I remembered was that I went up that weird side-of-the-building ramp to the Bally's self-park, but I had no clue which floor we parked on -- whether it was 3, 4, 5, or 6. There was a 7th floor, but I was pretty sure I didn't park there, especially since it was marked Employees Only.
I grabbed a sandwich at Bally's, and sat for awhile there talking to Matt.
2:20am
I told Matt I was starting to get tired, and that I was going back to the Rio. Matt went up to his room, and I suddenly realized that I had absolutely no clue where I parked my car.
I went up to the lot, and figured I'd probably find it. I remembered being fairly close to the elevator, so how hard could it be?
I went to the 3rd floor. Walked around, even repeatedly clicking my remote to make the car beep. No luck.
4th floor. Same thing. No luck.
5th floor. Same thing, no luck.
6th floor. Ditto.
Then I remembered that I thought we had been on the 5th floor, so I tried looking more carefully there. No luck again.
I tried walking deeper into the lot on both the 5th and 6th floors. No luck.
I tried walking the 4th and 3rd floors. Again, no luck.
I got a hold of Matt, who also didn't remember where we parked, but said that he also thought it was fairly close to the elevator.
2:40am
I was very hot, and couldn't stand walking around in that oven of a parking structure anymore. I called security of Bally's, and asked them to help. They told me to stay there and that they would send someone. I suggested that they drive me around the lot in their vehicle, and let me look for my car. They said okay. I told them I would be waiting by the 1st floor elevator.
I stood there patiently, watching groups of obnoxious young drunks walk by me. I kept waiting and waiting for that security guard, for what seemed like an eternity. There was nowhere to sit.
3:00am
Finally, a security guard on a bicycle came riding out of the elevator. (????) I said, "You're here for the car thing, right?"
He replied, "No, the one for you is right out that door. He's waiting for you."
No idea what the bike guy was doing here at the exact time the other showed (and knew about my situation), but whatever. I went outside, expecting to see a vehicle waiting for me.
It was another guy on a bike.
What was he going to do? Let me ride on the handlebars?
He told me that HE was going to search for my car, and wanted my key so he could ride around repeatedly pressing the unlock button. This didn't sound very efficient. I could describe my car, but certainly I would be better at recognizing it than he would. And what if he doesn't press the remote close enough to the car to make it beep? I thought this had fail written all over it.
Still, he kept insisting that this would be the procedure, and told me he would be back in "15 or 20 minutes" with the location of my car. He asked for a very specific description of my car. I told him the make, model, year, and color. I even told him what I remembered of the license plate number. He seemed to take note of all of this, and took off on the bicycle. I wasn't too optimistic, but surely this guy had done this before, and knew what he was doing, right?
I told him that I would be waiting in the same place -- by the 1st floor garage elevators.
He took off, and I realized that I was way too tired and hot to continue standing. I decided to throw my pride out the window, and sat on the floor, like a derelict. Scores of drunk club kids walked by. Most ignored me, but a few (understandably) confused me for some guy who was too wasted to keep walking, and was just taking a rest in front of the garage elevator of a major strip hotel. Part of me was embarrassed, but the rest of me was too hot and tired to give a shit. In hindsight, I should have asked them to let me wait in the security office, but blackjack card counters like me have a natural aversion to casino security offices.
3:20am
It had been 20 long minutes. Where was this guy? Does it really take 20 minutes to go down the aisles of the parking lot on a bicycle, furiously pressing a remote button over and over?
Okay, maybe it does. I wondered how long this would actually take. It's a big lot. What if the guy spends 2 hours on this project? What if, by some fluke, my car was stolen on the same night I forgot where it was parked? How would we ever conclude this with any kind of certainty?
I was so sick of sitting on the floor. I wanted this to be over. All I kept picturing was the guy returning, telling me the exact location of my car, and then happily driving back and getting in bed. Being in that car again seemed like bliss. Nothing else mattered.
3:40am
I was fed up. It was time to call security and have them summon the troop back home. I had quite enough of the floor of the 1st floor garage elevator lobby.
I got on the phone to security, and stood up. As it was ringing, I saw a flashing yellow light in the distance. Was it a bike? Yes, yes! It was a guy on a bike! And the flashing yellow light meant he was security!
I waved my arms at him. Surprisingly, he didn't ride over to me immediately. Was it perhaps that other bicyclist security guard?
No, it was the same guy I had been dealing with. He slowly rode back to me. I was hoping for the best, but bracing for the worst.
"So your car is an SUV, right?"
An SUV?! An SUV?! I spent 40 minutes on the floor waiting for his two-wheeled ass to return with good news, and he had been out looking for an SUV????
I was beside myself. I had given the guy a very specific description of my car. He appeared to be listening closely, and appeared to be following my every word. What happened? Why did he waste 40 minutes searching for the wrong type of vehicle?
He then started to question whether I had really parked my car in that lot at all.
"Maybe you parked at Planet Hollwood," he suggested. I kept repeating that I remembered the very unique side-of-building ramp into the Bally's lot, and that no other lot in Vegas has such a thing. I also told him that I wasn't drunk or high, but had simply forgotten to note where I parked my car. I was 100% sure that my car was in this lot.
He pulled out his smartphone. And I could see him pulling up a web browser.
"Umm... what are you doing right now?", I inquired.
"I'm going to google your car, so I can see what it looks like. Give me the make and model again. Then I'll go take another ride to find it."
No.
No.
Absolutely fucking not.
I tried it your way for the first round of fail, but we're definitely not having a sequel to this tragic story.
"Sorry, but I really don't want to do that again. I spent 40 minutes down here waiting on the floor. I realize that it's my fault for forgetting where I parked, but if you didn't know what the car looked like, the googling of the model should have been done before you rode around the first time", I protested.
"Well, uh, I thought that the remote would just pick it up, but now I'll actually be looking for the car itself," he replied.
I wouldn't budge. "No, I can't do this again. I'm hot and tired. I can't sit on the floor for another 40 minutes."
"You can wait in the security office instead," he interrupted.
"No," I continued, "It's time for something different. No offense, but when this was already tried once without success, I really don't feel this is a productive use of your time or my time to try this again for another 40 mintues."
"Oh no! It's fine! That's what we're here to do", he responded, apparently not hearing the part where I said that it was a poor use of BOTH of our times.
He then insisted that "we just don't drive people around", and that the only way to assist in locating my car would be another bike ride.
When I again refused, he offered, "I can call Metro to come take a report here, if you'd prefer that."
The guy wasn't trying to be snotty. He really thought that my only two options were having him take another bike ride looking for my car, or to call the police and file a report.
I told him, "There has to be a middle ground here. We aren't ready for the police to get involved in this, as I doubt it's stolen. But there has to be a solution where you can drive me around in some way. I'm sure that Bally's has at least one car at its disposal that can be used for this."
He insisted again that this was impossible, but told me to go down to the security office and discuss it with them.
3:55am
I tried to find the security office, but its location wasn't at all obvious. Finally, I grabbed the first person I could find with a Bally's nametag.
Coincidentallly, the guy I grabbed was the security manager. I told him what was going on. He also suggested that I give the bike thing another try, but when I steadfastly refused, he agreed to get a vehicle for me. He brought me to the office, and I waited there for the vehicle to be brought up.
4:05am
The vehicle arrived. The bike guy rode as the front passenger, and I rode in the back. I thought it was LOL that they needed TWO guards in the vehicle with me. What were they worried about? That I would overpower the driver, commandeer the security vehicle, and steal it?
Despite the bike guy knowing that the car was not lower than floor 3 (as that's where the ramp enters, and I told him that I was 100% certain we didn't go down), they started the search on floor 1. When I realized this, I told them to forget floors 1 and 2, and they drove up to 3.
I was still a bit concerned. What if I couldn't locate the car? What if I kept missing it because it got stolen or towed? What if it's hidden behind some large vehicle? What if we drive the whole lot and find nothing? Then what?
We drove all of floor 3. Nothing.
Floor 4. Nothing
Floor 5. Nothing.
Well, that only left one more thing to try. It had to be on Floor 6. We drove all over floor 6....
Nothing.
A sinking feeling came over me. Matt the Rat messaged me that he was sure I "must have found the car by now". I sadly replied to him that, no, I hadn't.
4:20am
The search continued on Floor 7, the employee parking area. I was pessimistic at this point, figuring that I wouldn't have parked there, nor did I remember driving up that high. Still, it was worth a shot, since I couldn't completely rule it out.
We drove around and again got nothing, but then a ray of hope.
I saw a flash of taillights while I was clicking the remote.
Nope, it was just someone else going to their car. Damnit.
But then another ray of hope. I heard a faint beep. I pressed it again, and another beep. It was my car! We kept following the beeps until the car was located -- floor 7, moderately close to the elevator (but not really close), right there in plain sight.
If I hadn't been such a dumbass and refused to search floor 7 in the first place, I would have been in the car almost 2 hours ago.
I can't tell you how happy and relieved I was at that moment.
I said to the security guys, "Thanks for driving me around. Sorry for wasting your time on this."
They graciously said, "No problem. You didn't waste our time. That's what we're here for."
I got in my car, and never was I so happy to see it.
And I'll never ever forget where I park ever again. That is, unless Benjamin's mom breaks up with me at an amusement park.
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by verminaard
