Weddings are almost always happy affairs even if you have to drive a long way to get to them. We attended our niece's wedding 474 miles away, a one day but long drive. Visiting a totally new state was a very positive experience until we met the parking garage.
I must explain that I have lots of problems with parking garages. For one they are garages on top of each other and any time I enter one I expect an earthquake to pancake me in my car. I know it's kind of an abnormal fear, but I know it's happened someplaces and I tend to panic thinking about such events. Second, they are always disorienting. Even though I am experienced at the parking garage at Lambert Airport in St. Louis and know how to go around and around three levels to drive out into the fresh air at the top, I dread the return journey going down. But I have finally memorized the arrows that point the way and concentrate on them and not on getting pancaked. Third, they are horribly dark and claustrophobic and always, always crowded. I don't even like the one story ones where you park beneath an entire building and there is only one level of parking. You still have an entire building above your head. And yes, I feel that same way about some house basements, thank you for asking.
But I am digressing because the wedding was beautiful, the church really open and welcoming. Downtown Madison is beautifully situated between two lakes with the state capitol on one side and the convention center on the other which is where the reception was. Unfortunately, it had a parking garage. I approached the garage with trepidation and immediately was directed to a winding circular drive up to the next level or three. I drive a very long wide van so going in circles made me wince thinking I was going to strike a concrete pillar or wall and send everything tumbling. But the worse was yet to come that evening after the reception was over and we had to leave.
Of course everything is one way in a parking garage, which I guess is safe, but it also meant not knowing where I was going to exit. Fortunately, or so I thought, we had parked near an exit sign. Great, no wandering around for us that night nearly ten-thirty. We could get out quickly. I picked up my ticket from my dashboard and rolled down my window to insert it into the ticket machine which was standing guard in front of the orange and white striped barricade. Nothing happened. It would not take my ticket. Hmmm...I tried again and again. I turned the ticket around, upside down and backwards. Still nothing. I could feel the panic beginning to arise and looked at the narrow piece of wood that constituted the barricade in front of my car. I could easily gun it and break through. But I had my husband and my mom in the car with me, so I ruled out going rogue. There was an assistance button on the ticket machine so I pressed it. Still nothing happened. It was then my husband pointed out a sign, literally on the BACK of the exit sign that said this machine was out of order, find a different exit. Why would that sign be on the BACK of the exit? Who could see that for Pete's sake? I slowly backed out of the ticket line and around a short curve to turn around.
Now where do we go? I began circling the parking garage looking for the elusive exit sign. Finally we spotted one, but it pointed toward a spiral drive again. I screwed up my courage and began the descent just waiting for another car to meet me in the middle coming up the spiral. With a sigh of relief we exited the circle and saw another exit, where this time, my ticket got sucked right into the slot and my money likewise. We were free! Thank you Madison, it was a beautiful weekend, but I think I wouldn't mind a valet service opportunity next time!
