wickedflea | (no subject)

Oh, man. Stan, the haiku mastah of second-floor marketing, is working his last day at the press today. At 4 p.m., he looked out his office window and reflected on having only one more hour at the place where he's worked on and off for twelve years. That's when he noticed that his car was being towed from in front of the building.

Can you believe that? For as long as I've known him, he's displayed an uncanny ability to keep track of how much time he has left on his meter and pick the parking spots where he knew he wouldn't get a ticket for repeating (i.e., feeding the same meter all day). And with one hour left in his tenure in New Haven, he gets his car towed!

What's been really funny has been watching people's faces when I've told them about it. Every person so far has laughed, like "Holy shit, that's horrible! HAWHAWHAW!!!" (You kind of have to know Stan -- there's something very Zen about the whole incident.)