In a strange turn of events, since Maren’s arrival,  I have been to a place in the city I never even knew existed. That’s right, a few weeks ago, we took our first ever trip to the New York City Police Department’s Impound Lot. Or, as Maren and I called it that day, the Tow Pound.

Remember when I blogged about my Maren Taxi when she picked me up outside of the house and drove me to work? Well, she also found a great parking spot on the corner by my work and was very happy to park her car there. Until…

She went to move her car a few days later only to find it missing! That’s right, Loretta the Jetta was missing! Stolen? We didn’t think so. The Museum of Natural History is not exactly a hot bed for stealing cars.

Finally, Maren was able to track down her car and what had happened to it and why. It had been towed because her Oklahoma tags had been expired for a year and a half. (Moment of silence to reflect upon the genius that is Maren)

So, after some calls to Oklahoma to get her new tags and after Mom overnighted them to us, we headed to the Tow Pound. We decided to take a taxi since it was pretty far from the nearest subway and it’s a good thing we did because when we got in the taxi and told him we needed to go to 38th and 12th, he asked us “river or highway?” Uh, what? Luckily when we told him our destination he knew exactly where it was and told us where to go once we got there. (It’s a giant place as you can imagine)

So, into the Tow Pound we went. It’s exactly what you would expect it to be. Small, hot and crowded with wood paneling and glass enclosed workers. Yes, it was a dream. When Maren and I walked in and saw the line of 8 people ahead of us and the full waiting area with at least 25 people, we feared that our plans to meet Zak in an hour and a half were pipe dreams. In fact, we wondered if we could get Zak to bring us dinner if we had to spend the night.

We finally got up to the window and the woman told us we had to go out to the car in the depths of the tow pound to remove the old license plate and put on the new one (stupid Oklahoma and their ugly new license plates!). So we then had to walk own this wood deck/ramp in this creepy and dark alleyway to this other tiny, hot, small, dirty space to be led to the car. Except when I say we, I mean that I was not allowed to go with her. Only one person is allowed to go to the car. Were they thinking we would get in and make a run for it and the gates and police officers would be unable to stop us? Aparently!

The woman in tiny room #2 then asks Maren if she brought any tools. You know, those license plate removing tools we all have on us all the time. Uh, no! Then she generously gave Maren some before another cop escorted Maren to her car and watched her change her license plate.

Then back to tiny room #1 where we waited to be called up to the window to pay the fines. The odd thing about this fine paying was that they charged Maren for the towing and the nights the car had been impounded but did not mention the outstanding tickets she has accumulated over her years of visiting nor did they make her pay the three (yes, three) tickets that were on her winshield when they let us take the car. Riddle me this. Not that we’re complaining, but it’s not exactly a great money making strategy for the fuzz if you ask me.

Luckily, this whole process took us so much less time than we thought it would and we were in and out in an hour and nearly on time to meet Zak.

I wish I could have pictures for you, but there were signs specifying no pictures were to be taken. Bummer. Aparently I’m not the first person to want to blog about the ridiculousness that is the Tow Pound.

Needless to say it is our goal never to have to go back there. Although since it’s only $20 a night to have your car there, we’re wondering if it might not be  bad idea to have your car towed rather than pay for long term storage at the airports here which is pretty expensive.

Oh, I also loved that the lady who helped us and wrote out all of Maren’s license information and wrote her name more than once on more than one form kept calling her Stefanie.