So the end of the "I can't believe that f*&%#^@*($!%@&*%@#!*%#$!! towed my car" saga, for all those who are curious, went like this.
P.I.C. and I went to the tow yard after work and picked up my car. For the low, low price of $140. Bastard. Not the tow company – it’s their job – but Dr. Prick. When I pulled up to P.I.C.’s building before we headed to the tow place, I “accidentally” blocked the entrance to the parking lot while we traded places. So sorry the people in the Lexus had to wait. SO SORRY. Not sorry at all.
We went back to his house, where I parked at a meter. Luckily, it didn't involve parallel parking. I suppose I'll be learning THAT in the near future. We went in and opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate…what, my first towing experience? The fact I’m poorer? Hmm. No, I’m pretty sure we just opened it because he bought my favorite and I wanted some. It was preventative -- so my profanity-laced tirades against Dr. Prick wouldn't just randomly start up like anger-induced tourette's. Then we watched the episodes of “Arrested Development” that we were so RUDELY prevented from watching the night before, cracked up, drank the whole bottle of champagne (What? Otherwise it would lose its bubbles!), and decided to go to dinner. We walked to dinner, but only after P.I.C. moved my car to another meter so that I wouldn’t get ticketed or, you know, TOWED.
So yes. Except for the whole “paying to un-impound my car”, it was a good evening. And as an aside, if anyone is looking for work as a tow truck driver, the good news is that you don’t need to know how to spell. At all. According to the tow receipt, I was “Parked in a privet lot/Unothorised.” Huh. Interesting. Apparently I was parked in a lot full of shrubs, when all this time I thought it was concrete. And the “unothorised”? Um, yeah. Enough said.
So there it is. Now you know "the rest of the story".