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.