I live in the middle of Austin on a wonderful little arc of a street that connects two major thoroughfares. Across the street is a wonderful city-owned tennis center. On the corner is a big frat house. The tennis center parking lot and the frat house parking lot are directly across the street from each other.
So for anyone who follows college football (or UT sports) knows, last weekend was the big Texas-OU game in Dallas. And the frat boys chartered three big buses to take them and their “dates” (WHY do sorority girls always bring their own pillows?) to the big game. We watched as sorority girl after sorority girl and fraternity boy after fraternity boy parked their expensive cars in the tennis center parking lot and got on the bus to go away for the weekend.
Off go the buses! Hook ‘em horns!
Fast forward to Saturday morning and the tennis center staff arrives to open the facility, only to find a parking lot full of cars. The same cars that were there when they left the night before. Cue the armada of tow trucks.
So, Sunday night, I hear the rumble of buses and run to my beloved like a four-year-old on Christmas morning who thought he had just heard reindeer footfall on the roof. “THE BUSES ARE BACK! THE BUSES ARE BACK!”
We both grabbed our beverages and headed outside to watch the drama unfold.
Now, we all know I’m evil, but I derived such joy at watching stupid person after stupid person disembark and begin wondering where oh where their cars had gone. Understand, Texas lost the game, these kids were almost certainly hungover and tired. And now they had no transportation. Brilliant!
My favorite was the girl who wandered up and down the parking lot, looking HORRIBLY confused, her wheeled suitcase and well-used pillow trailing behind her. It was as if she knew she was stupid and just kept thinking, “I’m SURE I parked it here. It’s got to be here somewhere! Maybe the bus let us off in a different place! Think, Missy, THINK! OW!”
Gradually it dawned on them that all of their cars had been towed.
So for the last two days the fraternity has posted pledges outside with a large handpainted sign that says, “Fraternity Parking ONLY.” Yeah. That’ll teach those tennis people a lesson. Especially since NO ONE ever parks in the frat lot but the frat boys.
Not to mention the fact that they are not seeking retribution for something THEY did wrong. Now THAT’S Bush’s America.