Tow Job

All I wanted to do was get a couple of cupcakes for dessert.

My wife and I had just finished a really good meal at a local Mexican restaurant and we decided on coffee at home. There is one of those bakeries on the street that sell those high-end cupcakes. Pop in, buy three, and head home.

So what if there is no street parking spaces open, the store next door seems closed and they've got an off street lot. So what if the sign says cars will be towed at the owner's expense, how long can it take to buy three cupcakes?

Long enough for the tow truck driver to get my rear wheels attached to his truck it turns out. Fortunately, I remembered from somewhere that they can't tow a car with people in it, so I say to my wife, "Hop in."


After a few minutes the tow truck guy walks up to the driver's side window and I say, "What now?" He says," Ninety bucks." And I say "I'm not paying that." He heads back to his truck

My theory of action here is that this guy must make his money by towing cars to the lot and that the longer he waits on me the more business he loses. My plan is to wait him out. So, when he takes out a spray bottle and a rag and starts leisurely cleaning his truck, I assume that this is a ploy. I consider sitting on the trunk and eating one of the cupcakes. But we stay in the car and many many minutes pass.

Then I get a little crazy. I don't know why, but I decide that to break the logjam I should take his picture. And, I am a little confused when he doesn't seems to care that I'm taking pictures of him, his truck and his license plate. That's when the second tow truck arrived.

Now I'm thinking that I'm into some game here and these guys know the rules and I don't. My best guess that the second truck is meant to increase the intimidation and to get me to cave. So. I take his picture too. Then we all wait around for a long time and not much happens.

When the maroon sedan pulled in, I am convinced that I'm supposed to think this guy is the leg breaker and I should cough up the ninety buck right away. So... I decide to snap his picture too. Only his hand come flying out of his car window and hits my phone while he's saying, "Get that fucking thing out of my face." When he gets out of the car he offers, "You do not want to fuck with me. You do not want to fuck with me."

By this time my wife is out of our car and tellingm e, "You know he's got a gun?" And this is when I get a little crazier and I tell her,  "How do we know it's real?" Ever the pragmatist, she replies, "Did you notice he's got a badge?" To which I shrug saying, "You can buy those anywhere."

That's when the first police car rolled up. Using the let's-all-calm-down body language I recognize from watching police shows on TV, the cop asks me what's going on and I tell him about the cupcakes and the rear wheels and pictures. For effect, I add, "And that clown assaulted me by hitting my phone out of my hand."

"That clown is a police detective,"  he says. Which I began to believe when the second police car rolled up.

So one cop is talking to me and one is talking to the tow truck guys, getting the story. The plain clothes cop comes over and says he is the chief detective investigating predatory tow truck operations in the city and he just happened by when the tow truck guy waved him down. So I'm thinking wait a minute - you're a detective in an unmarked car investigating predatory tow truck guys and these two predatory tow truck guys recognize you and flag you down for help? But I didn't say it.

At this point, my uniformed cop says, "Look, it's a law in the city. Once you're on the hook, you gotta pay the driver to drop you." To which I replied, "What I think is going on here is these guys are robbing me ninety bucks and you guys are helping them."  Figuring the next thing he might say is "Turn around and put your hands behind your back,"  my wife steps in saying "Let's just pay him. Let's go home."

So, three buck each for the cupcakes, nine bucks. And ninety for parking. Almost a hundred for dessert. More if you figure in the cost of the coffee.