Dude, Where’s My Car? A Philadelphia Story

Story, photos by Cassie Hepler

There’s a funny little loophole in the Philadelphia parking world that even after nine years of living here I just learned – and found out the hard way. Once upon a time, I went to a business lunch with the lovely Laura Price, PR Director at Quaker City Mercantile and enjoyed a leisurely lunch outside on a warm summer’s day. We wrapped up lunch, made fast friends (you just know when you meet a good person!) and went along our merry way. I rushed back to my car so I could high-tail it home and finish up a story for Thrillist – Philly’s 10 Friendliest Spots for Getting Friendly In – but there was no car to be seen.
I remember specifically parking across from the dog park in Old City, thinking I had found a great *free* spot and even backed up so another car could fit in front of me (one of my biggest pet peeves thus far about parking space hogs in the city taking up two spaces). But at that moment I felt like I had taken crazy pills. I paced back and forth, fretting with my memory and deciding no, I remember seeing the dogs in the parking and thinking awww, fluffy butts while parking. So I looked again – and sure enough, I parked in front of a two-car parking gate. So I assumed as any normal person would, it was towed. So I started calling, first the city number, then the closest towing company sign and no one had my car. They told me to wait. So I waited. And called a friend who – much like myself – was self-employed and can make her own hours. An hour later, my friend Elspeth from eMarketing Copywriter came to my rescue.
After calling another hour later, still no car. People on the other line urged me to call police but logically who would steal a car in front of a dog park? Highly unlikely. So reluctantly, I did. And we waited another hour. The officer was kind and patient, even telling me to step in the shade while he found all my info as I was turning lobster red on the shoulders (who needs sunscreen for a quick lunch?).
Now my car was reported stolen… and yet it made no sense. Elspeth suggested we go to the Piazza and have some iced tea and water with her friend Adam at Neighborhood Watch Repair, so we did while I kept obsessively calling tow companies, police, the South Philly lot. No trace of anything in anyone’s system. Finally I asked kindly if we can check the South Philly lot – just in case. Fortunately, Elspeth had her cool, calm demeanor in check and said sure. We drove there, half hoping, half knowing the outcome. One person helped us, another recognized me from the phone calls and then finally Officer Brown stepped in and took charge. She let us know that sometimes – even though tow companies are supposed to report any activity – they will move your car to another spot 4-6 blocks away. A light bulb went off in my head (and for a logical thinker such as myself this was the only plausible story). I asked my very generous friend for another 10 minutes of her time.
“We will drive up and down the streets in a 4-6 block radius and I will hit my key fob until something happens,” I vaguely promised. I directed, she drove until the last street where my heart and gut were sinking into never seeing my Optimus again. Then finally, “Beep, Beep!” made us jump in our car seats for joy. We hugged like we found a missing pet and I said, “What do I do now?” in a daze (7 hours at this point or Dude, where’s my car?). “Go get your car!” she said. I laughed and sighed, exhausted from all the nonsense. I got in my car, called the police to report it not missing (and waited another half hour) to be greeted by the original police officer who stated, “See, you’re a beautiful person. I knew it would all work out.” I said thanks and asked if he knows of this loophole. He replied, “Yeah, they are supposed to report each car, but…”
So to all those wondering Dude, where’s my car? Now you know!