I decided yesterday to go put the bin of Christmas decorations along with the fake white Christmas tree into storage to free up some space in the home for the studio stuff. After watching people get pelted by hail while standing under a skinny fir tree yesterday afternoon, I loaded up the Tracker with the goods and headed over to the Public Storage. I unloaded the goods and nicely placed those items into my storage room without incident!
I went to go work out shortly thereafter to get "all buff a la BeefCake". I swam a few laps in the over-chlorinated pool, let the over-chlorinated hottub massage my tight legs, and then left the over-populated club about 1.5 hours later. I went to Borders across the street to skim through under-impressive recording magazines for about another half hour. I then hit up the uber-sheek Sprint store to check out their ultra-new phones so I can plan for my replacement. That took another 20 minutes. I then decided to return to jalopolized Tracker and headed back to the very Public Storage to pick up the studio items and head home.
I got to the gate at Public Storage, dialed in my code, and watched the gate slide open. I briskly jumped into the tracker and got it set up to load some equipment. Normally there are a few dollies laying around I can use but I noticed something strange. They were all chained to the fence together. "Hmmm, that's strange" I thought to myself, but I didn't make it of any consequence, so, I continued to my storage locker. I grabbed all my equipment and headed down and loaded up the Tracker quickly.
I headed to the back of the facility, got out to type my code again, and I get "Ehh ehh" from the panel with an "Area closed" message on the display. I dialed the code again a few times thinking I fat-thumbed the code and got the same results each time. "Hmmm, that's strange" I thought to myself. So, I got back into the Tracker and headed to the entrance, which has the panel on the other side of the fence. So, I got out and stuck my arm out through the fence to get to the keypad, and through the miracles of abstract thinking, punche the code in blindly. I got the same "Ehh ehh" from the panel with an assured "Area closed" message on the display.
FAWK!
I stood there thinking, "They couldn't have locked me in here, could they? It is a 24-hour facility after all!" I then went around to the front of the gate to actually see the panel and inputted the information. I was denied access again.
FAWK!
"This sux!" I exclaimed! I had a Tracker full of gear and no way of getting it out. So, I pull up my trusty PS card with the code on it and flip it over. It read:
"Gate hours: 6AM - 9 PM"
The time was 9:15 PM.
FAWK!
So, I walked over to the gas station to call for a ride (I didn't have my cellphone since I let my wife borrow it). After some wooing, I secured my ride home and sat in the car thinking, "Man, I am embarrassed." It takes a lot for me to get embarrassed, but this occasion was in the front of the line to commemorate this feeling. I logically thought about it.
"C'mon Nelson. It's ok. You thought it was 24-hour access and it wasn't. It was an honest mistake."
I guess I felt guilty for putting myself into the situation and having to conjure up someone to come and get me. I also was afraid of what they thought of me, hence, why I made such a big deal out of it my head.
So, I got to listen the Cubs game, Sean Hannity espouse his hatred towards Mexicans, and the news report that Paul McCartney's wife left him. So, in hindsight, I created this reality for myself just so I can spend Nelson time with my Tracker! Excellent!
I'm going to pick up my Tracker now. I hope it had a nice evening at Public Storage.
 | Currently listening : Help! By The Beatles Release date: By 20 July, 2004 |
No comments:
Post a Comment