Deep Breaths Before Freaking Out:
Welcome, Co-conspirators, to The Stratagem’s Archives, and it is open for perusing. Recently, I, your humble narrator and purveyor of meticulous plans, was taught a lesson – a valuable one – and, thankfully, it ended up being the best case scenario because the worst case would have sent me into a spiral of despair.
My part-time rage room had pitted me against my ultimate nemesis: parking. In a downtown area where parking is horrendous, customers and employees are allowed to park in another business’s parking garage until spots open up. It’s a 5 minute walk, including the stoplights and the walk up to the garage, a small inconvenience for a mastermind in the making like myself.
The Moment I Crumbled
When there was a lull in the chaos at work, I mentioned to my boss and coworker that I was going to retrieve my car, and headed over. As I ascended towards the parking garage, I walked towards the back corner of the lot, and my worst fear unlocked: my car stall was empty.
My first impulse had always been to contact my parents, my first points of contact for anything, but they weren’t answering my calls. I panicked, then called my boss because I didn’t know what to do or who else to call. Bless his heart because he walked over to where I was to help as I struggled to maintain my composure. My boss, ever the pragmatist, spoke to the security guard on my behalf.
The security guard, a surprising font of wisdom, mentioned that patrons often misplace their vehicles in this labyrinthine garage. They hadn’t towed anyone in months, he reassured us, despite the downtown area’s reputation for vehicular heists. I managed a shaky nod, agreeing to take “one more look.”
A Villain’s Humiliation, A Hero’s Resolve
I swear, in that moment, I’d never wanted to slap myself so hard in my life until that night. While I waited, my amazing Aunty appeared, dispatched by my now-reachable parents who were mobilizing other family members. She sat with me, a calm presence amidst my unraveling. My boss, having confirmed with the security guard that all was well, headed back to his work.
My aunty, a seasoned veteran of downtown skirmishes, then delivered a surprisingly profound message. She herself had faced the predatory tactics of local towing companies – notorious for being petty thieves who can charge exorbitant fees, vehicle theft, and unhelpful interactions with the police. “I’m glad this happened,” she said, “because now you’ve experienced what this area is really like.” She emphasized the importance of documentation, of relying on evidence rather than my “fallible memory” in a district known for vehicular thefts. Her wisdom resonated deeply.
And so, with renewed resolve, I took that “one more look.” I walked up one more floor and there it was, my trusty vehicle, precisely where I had left it. I had been diligently searching the second floor, when my car had been patiently waiting for me on the third floor all along. Upon returning to work, and later, when I arrived home, I made sure to take pictures of my car, just as my aunty advised.
I took her advice to heart, immediately snapping photos of my car when I returned to work and again when I finally got home. I also had to issue a series of apologies to my boss and all the family members I had unnecessarily alarmed. Despite my embarrassment—being 28, I truly felt I should have “known better,” reacting impulsively instead of proactively assessing the situation—everyone reassured me that such mishaps are common. I thanked them all for their invaluable support, vowing to do better next time.
A New Stratagem: The Deep Breath & Documentation Protocol
This misadventure, my co-conspirators, taught me a crucial lesson. Even the most cunning among us can be blindsided by our own panicked assumptions. My villainous tendencies, in this instance, led me to prematurely declare defeat and, worse, to neglect the power of proactive measures.
My commitment to you, and to my own continued reign of… well, whatever it is I’m reigning over, is this: Next time, when the unexpected strikes, I will implement the Deep Breath & Documentation Protocol. Before succumbing to the urge to declare immediate catastrophe, I will take a moment, survey the scene with a clear mind, and double-check my initial assumptions. Furthermore, I will ensure I have a visual record, a digital alibi, to counter any potential memory lapses or external threats. I will not repeat this mistake, and I hope those who read my blog can learn from my temporary lapse in judgment.
For those of you, my equally neurotic co-conspirators, who might also find yourselves teetering on the edge of a freak-out, remember my ignominious tale. Before you unleash your inner panic monster, take a deep breath. Seriously. Just one. Then, maybe, another. And if circumstances allow, snap a quick photo. Often, the solution is much simpler (and far less catastrophic) than your racing mind leads you to believe, and a little evidence can save you a lot of grief.
What minor misstep has sent your carefully constructed plans into a temporary tailspin? Let me know in the comments below and I will see you all again when the archives open!
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