"Have a good evening sir."

ME: “Hey! Why are you towing my car!?” (*As I ran down the Rosa Parks sidewalk in my black suit)

DRIVER: “You’ll have to ask them.” (*Points to two policemen, as my car is raised onto the wrecker.)

POLICEMAN 1: “This is your car?”

ME: “Yes.”

POLICEMAN 1: “Why did you leave it here?”

ME: “I didn’t”

POLICEMAN 2: “Well how did it get here?”

I had wanted to go to a NASHVILLE REAL PRODUCERS event since I first heard about it, and this was the first night I was able to go, even if just for a little while, to see some friends and meet other like-minded agents.

I hit some traffic turning onto Rosa Parks from Church St. as it looked like there had recent been a wreck in the area and the emergency response team was still on-site. Slowly, me and the cars in front of me navigated our way between the emergency vehicles and the oncoming traffic to position ourselves in the valet que at The Standard. Each time I missed an event at The Standard my anticipation grew to someday check this place out.

*Valet open my door

VALET: “Have a good evening sir.” (*Hands me a ticket)

I follow a group of finely-dressed agents down the hallway to the doors to the club. After all, it was a Casino Royale themed event.

The Standard is awesome. Emily Daniel is awesome-er: ushering me in and being an awesome friend as I try to pretend like I’m not an introvert experiencing a little anxiety at that moment….

Matt, the host, had clearly gone all out on this event and it exceeded all expectations. This is an incredible group of Producers who are willing to leave their company/brand at the door and just experience awesome community with other agents and let loose a bit. I’m super glad I went.

At 7PM I imagine Tonya back home trying to wrangle the kids in pajamas and realize my 45 minutes are up and I should head back home. I thank the host and make my way out the door (not before snapping a selfie with the print-out from the Erin Krueger issue that I thought would  make her laugh but I immediately deleted it because I looked stupid and she’s sort of like the coolest realtor celebrity in town) and then...

Chaos.

The two valet guys were darting every direction trying to manage the customer’s tickets amidst the lingering traffic congestion caused by the wreck. The line wasn’t long, but it was clear it would take a moment to get to me so I take a stroll up the street to kill time.

As I near Church St. I see what appears to be a Black Acura TL. I confirm; It’s mine. “Perfect,” I think to myself. My car was near and I could just go tell the valet I’ll take the car myself and give him my ticket.

As I begin to walk back toward the valet line I realize the valets are moving each of the cars down the street to park them there, as they had run out of options to park them elsewhere. There was a gap between my car and the next one in front of me so they must be about to move mine next once they get around the traffic that is causing the delay. Then I realized the keys were in my car so I pondered the protocol of whether or not I should just hop in and drive off since these guys are slammed, or walk back and let them know I’m the owner, hand them my ticket, etc. I couldn’t get myself to “steal” my own car so I walk the 50 yards back to the que, when....

A wrecker pulls around the corner, backs into position, and starts loading my car…

ME: “HEY! Why are you towing my car!?”

After my brief conversation with the wrecker-driver and the two policemen, we start to piece together what happened.

ME: “I don’t know how it got here. I arrived about an hour ago and valeted. I’m just now coming back to get my car.”

POLICEMAN 2: “Man, this car hasn’t moved in 45 minutes. The keys are in it and the engine’s running. We’ve been trying to clear out this wreck but your car was in the way so we called to have it towed. I’ve got a ticket written for you and it’s $55 for the wrecker.”

As I composed myself I corraled the valet to the scene, after his incredulity wore off that they couldn’t have possibly just left my car there with the engine running for 45 minutes; yet, there in the windshield was their valet tag matching my ticket-number to prove it.

In the midst of their hustle when I arrived the valet had gotten side-tracked after giving me my valet-ticket, and because of where they had come to let me out, so close to where the wreck was, they mistakenly thought my car was associated with the wreck somehow when they returned and didn't realize they had attended to me.

In summary, The Standard is awesome. I”m grateful for Emily Daniel. My car isn’t nice enough to get stolen even while sitting on the street running for an hour, Erin Krueger is sort of like the Nicole Kidman of Nashville real estate. I’m looking forward to the next REAL Producers event. But in the meantime, I have a court date.

*The valet company is paying for everything, and has been extremely apologetic. *