The Airport: Part 4 of Victoria's Weekend

The next day we caught Merchant of Venice in the afternoon. We went down early enough to check out all the great stores. Lots of idea's for Christmas. The play was pretty uneven. Though the last 15 minutes were probably the best of any Merchant I've ever seen.

Then there was dropping Victoria off at the airport. As we walked away from the car is said to her “we better remember what space I parked in, or I’ll still be here looking for my car when by the time you get to Montreal”. I just shouldn’t say things like that.

Cause wouldn’t you know it… two hours later, her flight has touched down, and I call to ask if she could think of any clues as to where we parked the car, does she perhaps remember going uphill at any point? Needless to say I’m still in the Toronto airport.

I spent two hours looking for my car. Did I mention I hate having a grey car? After walking around on my own for about 45 minutes a security van pulls up and offers me some help. Too bad they weren’t actually helpful. All they did was drive me around and question my description of the car. For example, I told them it was a grey/beige Toyota Corrolla. They pointed out white cars, and dark green cars, and Lincolns and asked if it was my car. Then there was their wonderful and reassuring demeanour (this is said with dripping sarcasm). They pointed out that my car might have been stolen, and when I asked what I should do if that had happened, they laughed and said, “buy a new car of course”. I started asking to go back out and look on foot.

When they finally let me go, the last guys remark was “I’m sure your car is here… I just don’t think you know what it looks like”.

I went into the airport and found a different security team helping out. By that time Victoria had landed and I was able to call her and ask what she remembered about our space, which was pretty vague. Armed with new information, and new security guard, we found the car in about 15 minutes.