Sunday, March 01, 2009
Free at Last
Friday was laced with good intention. I attempted to fulfill requirements for 2 photography assignments in one go; one project focusing on color, the other composition. I drove to Signal Hill's industrial district, parked in 1 hour parking, and began to scout the area on foot.
I stumbled upon a photographic treasure trove at Gardena and 29th St. A giant lot heaped with monochromatic and analogous colored scrap metals, orphaned car parts, and towering trucks. I asked the 2 men sweeping for permission to take a few photos. They welcomed me. Before I knew it, 1 photo led to another and another...and...
One of the men called to me as he was leaving, "Good luck with your project!" "Thanks!" I called back. Half an hour later it occurred to me that it might be beneficial to my pocket book to move my car so I wouldn't get a parking ticket, or worse, towed.
I walked towards the gate I had originally entered. Strange. It was closed. Anxiety inducing. It was locked. It was the only way out and I was the only one inside! Which left me with this chilling challenge: To find a way out!!!
Like a pinball rickashaying off all 4 walls, I bounced from corner to corner, searching for a loose board, a latter, anything that would help me scale the tall gate sporting it's wiry barbed hairdo. Nothing.
My eye spied the vintage truck parked beside the gate. I hopped onto the running board which lent me enough height to become a floating head. "Look at me, here I am, right where I belong..." A bobbing head-
I tried waving down the cars driving by, yelling to cell phone man down the street- no one noticed me- My car! I had to get out of here! I offered a desperate prayer. Heavenly Father, please please please send someone to rescue me. Five minutes later a delivery truck pulls into a driveway across the street. On his way out, he begins rolling down his window. I call to him, he stops! He let me borrow his cell phone. I called the cops.
An officer showed up with backup. The first thing he said to me was, "So you're turning yourself in for breaking and entering huh?" "No officer, I got permission to be here." "Oh yah? From who?" "Shoot. I didn't get their names." "Oh. You don't know their names..." He gave me a really hard time, laughing all along the way.
The officer had just completed a two hour lock picking training a couple weekends before! Unfortunately it didn't help him. Somehow they were able to get a hold of the company's owner and 2 hours later I returned to my car. Yes! It was still there and no ticket! :)