The other night at 1:36 a.m. PST, I was dodging broken bottles off a gravel road in a dark corner of Sacramento looking over my shoulder for dark shadowy somethings and perhaps red glowing eyes and/or fangs. In my pocket was a credit card receipt for $145 with my signature on it and the underbelly of my rental car had fresh scrapes and dents*.
How in the world, do you ask, does someone with my integrity and intelligence end up in this sort of spot? The answer is a meddling power hungry security guard, a wayward poker club, and a dirty, racist and retiring tow truck driver named Beau.**
The evening started off well enough. I covered the Cavs win over the Kings to close their West Coast trip. I wrote my follow story, recorded a quite insightful podcast with Michael Reghi and was on my way to this bar for a postgame Sprite. That's right, I don't drink. It might've been a Sierra Mist or a 7-Up, whatever. I was instructed to park at the DelTaco restaurant next door, where most of the spot's patrons park without worry, I was assured.
About 45 minutes later, I emerged to find my rental car with my briefcase containing my company-issued laptop, removed from where I left it.*** Thus my encounter with Beau, who told me he was: a) making too much money at this job; b) retiring in the morning, yet when I pointed out it was morning it inspired no compassion; c) hated all (insert racist epithet here); d) couldn't read.****
If you came here to read about the Cavs, I'm sorry. Long time blog readers understand that from time to time, I find relaying my on road misgivings therapeutic.
*-By reading this, you (the reader) hereby swear not to contact National Rental Car with these details.
**-Some of this is Sam Amick's fault, but since his fine was $248, I think he's swallowed enough medicine. However, the fact he still decided to purchase food from DelTaco after he learned of his towing battered my sympathy for him.
***-The reader also is barred from taking any action to inform Beacon Journal editors of this fact. I would worry about this being written on their own website, but to my knowledge they don't know I exist.
****-OK, this I made up, but he couldn't relay my credit card number or my driver's license number to his dispatcher and I had to do it for him...talk about adding insult to injury.