I had a meeting with my banker downtown this morning at 8:30. Being a good little client and respecting the time of others, I was at the corner of 4th and Deaderick in plenty of time to park in their tiny garage and arrive on time for my appointment.
And then I saw the lines. First the line of cars waiting to get into the parking garage which my bank shares with a hotel. But they always have some spots reserved for bank customers so I waited it out for 15 minutes. When I got inside the garage, I drove around the entire structure three times to no avail.
By this time my banker called my cell and told me to try another garage, since apparently theirs was full. No shit, Sherlock. So I circled the block and saw the real line and the cause of my parking difficulties. There were hundreds of people queued up waiting to enter the Doubletree for their chance at their 15 minutes of fame as a contestant on “So You Think You’ve Got Talent.” There were auditioners of every size and shape, in and out of costumes, with and without instruments and all various shades of bluish purple as they stood in the sub-freezing cold. The best adjective I can think of is “motley.”
I drove to a garage a few blocks away and still had to park on the 10th floor. The clincher was the elevator ride down which I had to share with two prospective contestants who wanted to try out their acts on me. One had an accordion. The other was a ventriloquist.
What was that other NBC show from the 90’s? Oh yeah. “Just Shoot Me.”