Monday, October 03, 2005

Apparently, There CAN Be Too Many Subarus

Went to dinner Friday night at Midwest Grill in Inman Square. I'm all about the carnivorous behavior, and the food and company were wonderful. (Don't miss any of the beef selections. Plus, being served your food on skewers is just way cool. Sorry I didn't go there on International Talk Like a Pirate Day.)

The trouble didn't start until afterwards, when I endeavored to get my car out of the valet parking. "Blue Subaru, right?" asked the attendant, and ran off to get it. First came a royal blue Outback sedan with Ontario plates. (Mine is a midnight blue Outback wagon, Mass plates.) He immediately backtracked--"Oh, I know that's not yours! I just had to move it get to your car."

Believable enough, until he came back to me and asked, plaintively, "This is your key, right? Because it doesn't open your car!" So I followed him behind the building to the valet lot to discover ... a dark blue Subaru, different year, different plates (the lack of a front plate was a pretty quick giveaway).

"You gave me your ticket, right?" Yes, I had, and it was already marked paid. It even had my license plate number jotted on it. "Okay, okay--it's okay. I'll find your car. Don't worry!"

He then ran off, leaving me, my husband, our son, and our son's friend to mull over why anyone would want to steal a somewhat beaten up 2002 Subaru, because by this point, theft was very much on our minds. "Maybe it's the satellite radio?" I optimistically asked.

"Jeez, Hon, that's worth maybe $100, and not even that when you call Sirius and cancel the service," Jim answered.

"Well, crooks are stupid," I responded in my world-weary, seen-it-all tone.

After about five more minutes (a looong five minutes), the attendant pulled up in our car, explaining that another attendant had told him the wrong location of the car (it was in a parking garage a few blocks away). I'm such a softy, I even gave the guy a couple of bucks because he really seemed distressed at losing the car.

So much for saving time searching for a parking space by going with the valet service. Next time, I'm self-parking--or I'm painting the car lime green before we go. That way, no one will confuse it with every other vehicle on the street. Unless there's a convention of AMC Gremlin owners in town. Then, I'd be sunk.

5 Comments:

Blogger Mr. Liberty said...

Steal your car for Sirius?! C'mon!

XM maybe. Throw in OnStar, so that lady knows where I'm going all the time and can protect me from danger, then maybe I'll steal it.

Not just for Sirius. Sorry.

Mr. Liberty

7:11 AM  
Blogger Alison Rose said...

LOL! We chose the Sirius for the wide range of music and the multiple NPR stations (I am so happy to be able to hear Diane Rehm again, a favorite of mine from Washington DC). Also, I love the little "GAME ALERT" message that pops up when the Patriots are about to kick off. You just push a button and voila!--your hometown team is on the air.

OnStar sounds cool, but it's way too pricey for me. I guess I'll have to settle for being lost.

7:59 AM  
Blogger Rebecca said...

Sounds like a Seinfeld episode, doesn't it? ;)

3:18 PM  
Blogger David said...

Valet parking and parking garages in (or around) Inman Sq?! These are both new to me.

Back when I lived in those parts, we'd sometimes circle looking for a parking spot until we'd finally give up and eat elsewhere.

It's a shame though. Lots of great restaurants there. My fav is Chris Schlesinger's East Coast Grill, but we also love Casa Portugal.

We never go to Midwest Grill anymore though. The parking's too tough, and we can get our chimichuri fix more easily at Tango in Arlington center. ...but those skewers at Midwest Grill are great.

Darnit! Now I'm craving it. Guess I'll have to deal with that parking madness.

...There is that tiny lot behind the coffee house. I've had some luck with that.

5:12 AM  
Blogger Alison Rose said...

I have seen Tango from across the street (we eat in Arlington pretty much; especially love Viet's Cafe), but haven't gone. Now I must!

And Rebecca--you're right. It's does sound Seinfeld-ish. A feeling that was compounded this week when Jim brought home a babka from the Wilson Farms bakery. Not cinnamon or chocolate--apricot--but a babka nonetheless. And we didn't even have to take it to a party--we got to eat it ourselves!

6:21 AM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home