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The One That Got Away

 In 2001, I had a powder blue late 80s Plymouth Voyager minivan. It was an utterly ubiquitous vehicle and basically my dream car. I had it for about a week when I drove it to a late-night show at the House of Blues to see Common with Erika Badu (which was dope af). Too poor for valet, I left it in a 90% legal street spot (overhanging a no parking sign by a bumper + a lil more.) It was like 9:55 pm. When I stumbled out at 3 am or whenever it was, I saw a big, beatdown Buick parked in my spot. Just like me, they were hanging over the no parking sign. Well, you guessed it, I got towed. The next day I went to pick it up from the city pound. The ticket said 10:05 pm and something was wrong with it. By the time I got home, it was barely drivable and after a consultation with my neighbor/mechanic, it was clear that the City of Chicago had broken my rear axle when they towed it. Not being able to afford to fix the car my landlord offered me one month’s rent for it and I took the

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