Lost My Car in a Dark Garage

I was at Anna's sister's wedding. Anna was the maid of honor, and as I watched her walk up the aisle before her sister, I grabbed my camera to take pictures. It was running out of batteries, so I kept turning it on and trying again, and I got a few mediocre shots out of it.

As I was taking the pictures, I remembered that I was supposed to play a song for the wedding and I didn't have my music with me. Since my music was at my parents' house and the wedding was just a few blocks away, I thought it would be fine for me to leave and run back to their house to get it. I assumed I'd get back to the wedding with no problem.

Then all of a sudden, I was in a giant high-rise parking garage. It was dirty and dingy and dark and scary with a million stairwells, several on each floor, so I couldn't keep track of where I was going. I held my keys tightly in my hand and kept pressing the lock button, which makes my car's horn honk. I could hear it very faintly in the distance. It was very high-pitched. As I climbed the stairs, the sound got harder and harder to hear, so I figured I should go back down. Whenever I got inside a stairwell where I'd be going down the stairs, I was able to jump down the whole thing with my fingers just lightly grazing the handrails. It was sort of like flying, but more so jump-falling in an organized fashion. Make sense?

I searched and searched everywhere, but I could not find my car. I did come across a man wearing a busted up tuxedo. He looked like some kind of cartoonish magician or the villain from an old movie. Crooked mustache, wilted flower in his boutonniere. He was digging through piles of junk, boxes of random things. He implied that he could help me find my car. I searched through the piles with him for a few minutes, turning up some of my own belongings. Then he led me to the base of a stairwell where three other people sat; two grown men and one little girl. "Stay here for 15 minutes," he told me. "Whatever you're looking for will show up."

I sat on the dirty floor and realized the two men and little girl were about to watch a movie. I thought it was probably be too scary for her. I also realized that the tuxedo guy was the owner of the fancy hotel that the parking garage was suddenly attached to, and I wondered how he had time to search through garbage when he had a fancy hotel to run.

Eventually I ended up in the lobby of the hotel, all dirty and standing out in the light of the giant chandeliers. I had not found my car or my music, and I was sure the wedding was long over, but Anna was there and still very nice to me. Hey, thanks for being a good friend, Anna!