Last week Wayne and I had an appointment to meet with our banker to sign some papers. Nothing big, just some standard stuff to take care of.
The banker could meet us at any branch, we just had to name the place and time. Wayne decided it would be best to meet her in downtown St. Paul, closest to my work, because *shocking* I have a tendency to be late to things, and he figured the closer it was to my work the higher the likelihood that I would be on time.
We had a 1 pm appointment in a building 10 minutes away from where I work. Easy peezy.
Wayne drove from Plymouth to St. Paul and was at the bank by 12:20. He called me to tell me he was there and remind me that the street in front of the bank was torn up and I'd have to find an alternate route. He even recommended a parking ramp I could park in. I figured I'd better get going, just in case it took me longer than the 10 minutes that I expected, so I could not annoy my husband who hates my chronic lateness. So I left at 12:25. Plenty of time.
Famous last words.
I drove to the general vicinity of the building. Traffic was horrible, of course, because of all the construction. I happened to see an open street parking spot and took it, knowing that I was only a block or two from the building. I plunked a few quarters in to the meter, knowing I would be back before it ran out.
And then I walked. And walked. And walked six blocks in the COMPLETELY WRONG DIRECTION.
I called Wayne. I asked which building. "The one with 'Wells Fargo' really big on the top," he said.
That's great and all if I were miles away and viewing the St. Paul cityscape from a hill. But I'm on the street, and I can't look up 20 stories into the air.
After walking for a very long time, I finally realized my mistake and that I had gone in the wrong direction from the car. So I walk past the car again (no ticket, meter still good), and walk in the other direction.
This time I find the right building but can't get into it. Apparently I'm supposed to be a business tenant of the building to enter the elevator, and I have to exit the building, go back down the street and to the other entrance to get to where I need to go.
I finally make it, then am guided by cell phone to the correct floor.
Time of arrival? 1:10 pm.
This is the best part.
The only two things I had to do were:
1. Show up on time.
2. Have my ID with me proving I'm me.
I open my wallet to pull out my driver's license, only to see a blank spot where it used to be.
I had put it into the pocket of my jacket when I'd gone out for a walk the evening before, where it still was. I was confident it was still there, in the pocket of the jacket, which was hanging in my office. At my place of business. "Ten minutes" from where I was now located.
Thankfully the banker agreed that if I emailed her a scanned copy of my ID once I returned to the office we could still move forward. Whew!
Actually, this is the best part.
I returned to my car to find a ticket on the windshield. I check the meter, it had run out (surprise!). I look at the ticket. It is NOT for an expired meter.
It is for not parking parallel to the curb.
Sure enough, I had parked partly askance, in my hurry to get to the appointment on time. Which, of course, I wasn't.