Tow much fun

I haven't had much luck with cars. I wrecked my first car -- affectionately called Ron Burgundy -- in front of a newsroom on my first day of my college internship ... a semi-truck hit me as I nervously attempted to park before my inaugural attempt at professional journalism. Embarrassing ... and quite the "learning experience."

My second car -- Goldie Hawn -- was a champ for quite a while, and then she hit a wall. Problem after problem after problem. Highlights included breaking down on the freeway and taking a ride in a fancy new tow truck; receiving a Christmas card and weekly "just checking in"phone calls from my mechanic; and scoring a free drink from the folks at the Starbucks next to my auto shop after coming in crying because of my string of bad luck with Goldie.

I decided enough was enough and put Goldie to rest. RIP. My new rig, Sylvester Stallone, and I were off to a great start -- as in the car aaalways started when I went off to work in the morning (unlike Goldie) -- until just a few days ago. I made the rash decision to park in a lot lined in "do not even think about parking here" signs as I ran into the bank. I had a pang in my gut that I shouldn't park there even though I'd done this routine several times before and never encountered an issue.

I briskly walked back to my car after the quickest bank trip possible -- I swear, the elapsed time could have been 15 minutes max -- only to find Sylvester hoisted on the back of a tow truck. In retrospect, I'm quite proud of my demeanor. I thought to myself that I just got paid and actually had the funds to retrieve the car from the pound, unlike so many times when Goldie was in the shop and I couldn't afford to fix her. I sprinted over to the large, tattooed tow truck driver and he said, "This your car?"

I said yes and didn't expect him to lower it down. He did and let me go with a, "Have a nice day." In a rare occurrence, I even had cash to tip him, but he refused. I got in my car, a bit shaking, and said to myself, "I think this is my lucky day."

I wanted to buy a lottery ticket, but I thought it would be a better idea to take advantage of the gorgeous springlike day and head for an afternoon run. As I made my way back to my apartment, just a block off, I kicked it up a gear and tried for the "homestretch sprint." At a cross street, I saw a car coming to the stop sign and I thought I made eyes with the driver in an attempt to say, "I'm running, please don't run me over." Just as I advanced in front of her car, however, she took her foot off the break and at that moment I thought I was toast. She managed to hit the break just in time, and I continued running, heart in my throught and all.

As I ran on I again said to myself, "It must be my lucky day!"

Unfortunately, there isn't a more climactic ending to this post. I didn't win the lottery -- I didn't even buy a ticket. But, I have my life, my car and a few extra dollars in my checking account thanks to my luck ... or maybe I just got really good lesson in being a little extra careful when it comes to parking and running.