(see part 1) WOOPS forgot about Part 2. What can I say, what doth life life life life life So. We’re briskly vacating the scene of horrors and beating feet back to our respective vehicles, through the rain, quite frankly feeling really uncomfortable to the point of nausea. We arrive at the car and agree to meet up at the first place we toured the day before, so everyone else could see it (we’re moving there this weekend, actually). We’re driving off toward President St. when my phone rings: (paraphrased conversation) “Hey Evan? Yeah my car just got towed.” “Are you [fucking] kidding me? Alright, we’ll turn around and come get you…” Apparently, because (we’ll call her) D parked at the Royal Farms and took more than 35 seconds to come back and get her car, … Read entire article »