On Saturday morning I got a call from my sister that in the course of a few hours her dog, husband and baby had all thrown up. She didn’t just call to gross me out, but rather to say that suddenly their plans to attend the USC homecoming game were up in the air. She asked if we wanted their tickets since I also went to USC and though we had a nice quiet weekend planned, we jumped at the chance.
We piled in the car and drove across town, knowing that the place was going to be a mess since not only was it a night game (meaning there were hooooours of tailgating happening), but it was homecoming, so there would be a higher than average attendance level. And it was every bit as busy as we had expected.
We asked a security guard where the best place to park was and he said that all the lots were full and that unless we wanted to pay 80-100 dollars, we should drive a few blocks away and park in the neighborhood. It sounded kind of sketchy (the neighborhood around USC is…interesting), but we didn’t really have any other option. So we drove down and settled on parking at an apartment complex for 20 dollars. We were assured that we wouldn’t be blocked in (we double checked this since we were planning to leave the game a little early) and we were assured that was the case.
So we set off to the game. Which was really a lot of fun. Eli liked watching parts of the game, especially from his own seat (that the people next to us generously donated).
He did not care for the (Stanford) band very much.
And we all had a good time cheering on our Trojans.
At the start of the 4th quarter (around 7:45) we decided to head to our car. We got there and found that despite all the reassurances, there was a car blocking the driveway and that there was not a single light on in the apartment that was busy and bustling just a few hours earlier. So, we got in the car and pulled forward, hoping that the person who drove the car was inside and would take the hint. And then we waited. And waited. And waited.
After about 20 minutes, a guy came over and said he was a neighbor from across the street. He had seen the car park there not too long ago and the driver had appeared to be very drunk and headed off towards the sorority houses. Um. What?
So now we’re sitting in the car, trapped in a small alley with 2 cars parked behind us (so we can’t just abandon our car and take the metro home), listening to the football game that we left early (which got SO good after we left aaaaaarg) for the entire hour that we thought it would take us to get home. I seriously didn’t know what to do. A tow truck couldn’t help us since it was a private driveway. Parking enforcement couldn’t help us unless the building manager or owner was present. So we were just stuck in someone’s drive way, in downtown LA at 8:45pm. With a very tired baby and several drunk, rowdy, pissed off people who were stuck behind us.
I have to say, it was one of those moments where I really had no idea what to do. I actually almost called my dad because I felt that confused. Like I needed to consult a real adult because clearly I was not one. I didn’t want to leave our car, Eli was melting down and I just had no idea how to proceed.
Just as a group of 12 really drunk guys decided they would try to pick up the car and move it into the street, which truthfully I’m pretty sad I didn’t get to see because I can only imagine how entertaining it would’ve been, the jackasses who parked there (who did not even live there and just decided that a random driveway was a great place to park during the USC homecoming game) came back and moved out of the way.
And then, at 9:15 we finally got to leave and delightfully got to sit in aaaaaaaaall the traffic we were trying to avoid by leaving the game early.
We learned a really important lesson on Saturday. If we’re going to go to a USC game, we should never skip the tailgating. I mean, for the parking part only, obviously…