Here is the mugshot from this dirt bag's arrest a couple years back for reckless driving. I did not include in the original post but since he wants to play games, this is going front and center.
Fabian Alejandro Pourrain
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The Rough Draft - Rant Version
The PhD Version
The Joe Dirt Version
The Rough Draft - Rant Version
A few weeks ago, I went to California to visit family. I was in a rush booking everything, so I didn't do my research on parking and just went with the first thing that came up in a Google search. When I got there, I immediately realized it was a bad decision.
I pulled into an unkempt lot full of chaos. People were parking their cars in front of the empty guard shack in the middle of the road. I went into the trailer that served as their office, and they had a sign up saying they were overbooked and might not be able to honor all reservations. On top of that, they had a sign on the front desk saying they are not responsible for anything in your vehicle, including guns (like that is going to hold up in court). If that wasn't enough, the biggest shocker was finding out once I arrived that I had to leave my keys. They had me pull up right behind another car and told me they would move my truck later.
I was in a pinch. My flight was scheduled to depart in two hours. I didn't have a good feeling about this place but decided not to risk missing my flight. I was anxious the entire time I was away about where I left my truck.
Two weeks later, when I arrived back at MCO, I got a text from BMI asking me if I knew the code for my truck. They said my keys were locked inside, and they wanted to get my truck ready for my arrival. Why the hell were my keys inside my truck?
When I get to the lot they asked me again and again if I know the code. No I don't know the code. I have the FordPass app but I had been gone for two weeks so my truck went into sleep mode. The only way to wake it up was to start the engine. Well they had a slim-jim on hand because this sort of thing happens all the time there. I wait for about 40 minutes while they tried and failed to open my truck.
When they came back they just wrote down an e-mail address for me and told me to call a locksmith and they'll reimburse me. I had been reading the reviews while I was waiting and read that a lot of people are not getting reimburse. They insisted I would get reimbursed. I called a locksmith and walked the lot to look for my truck.
After walking the lot I have no idea how these people have not been shut down. There were keys left in every car on that lot and non of them are locked. One car even had the keys left in the lock! There were cars parked on steep inclines with bumpers touching the dirt and right up against trees on top of the truck where it flares out. The cars were packed 50 or more in a line with the lines going ten deep. It's no wonder the reviews show cars getting banged up there. In an effort to maximize profits they pack these cars as tight as they can and move them around all day. If they get banged up oh well. What are you going to do, sue them? They know that the majority are just too lazy to follow through and take them to court.
My locksmith arrived about 40 minutes later. He was able to go about halfway through the lot before he decided to park due to a huge pothole that they drive everyone's cars through. He didn't want to ruin his car driving through that. We had to walk the rest of the lot on this hot muggy morning to my truck. Due to the locks on the F-150 it's not a cheap call to the locksmith. It cost $249 to get my truck unlocked. At this point I drove the locksmith back to his car but the cars were so tight that at some points I only had an inch of clearance on each side.
I went home and called their office since they said the manager would be in around noon. The manager never showed up. They said the manager would be in Monday. I called back Monday and no manager. They said they think the manager was traveling. Meanwhile I had already e-mailed for reimbursement but wasn't getting a response. So I kept calling. The next time I called I was told that there was a dispute with the managers and all the e-mails were deleted so I just needed to send another e-mail. So all this time they can't find a manager but they know there was a dispute with management?
I did what they told me to and e-mailed them again and got no response. I decided to give them one more call before going down there. I called them up on a Wednesday afternoon almost 3 weeks after I came back from my trip. I told him I wanted to talk to a manager. He kept telling me he couldn't find a manager and I just need to send the e-mail even though I kept telling him no one responds to these e-mails. I told him if I don't have my money by the next day I'll be picketing in front of their business. I sent a 5th e-mail and told them the same thing.
I contacted several news outlets that afternoon and got an immediate response from Jeff Deal at WFTV-9. Jeff told me they already had several complaints and were investigating this business. I told Jeff I'd be there on Friday and he asked me to get some video and a pictures.
My wife was too busy to get pictures of me so I came up with a new plan, one that would involve the police taking my picture for me. My original plan was to be there at 5AM to get there when all the people were flying out early. However Jeff wanted a video of the lot and I knew once I was on their radar I'd have to be off their property. The sun came up at 7:07 that morning so I got there right before 7.
I parked at the storage facility next store. The first thing I did is walk the lot while recording a video. I walked right past their trailer and no one stopped me. Right past their empty guard shack and walked over halfway to the back of the lot. No one said a word to me. Finally once I felt like I had sufficient video I went back to their office and confronted them.
Walking the lot.
The first thing this guy asked me is "Why are you recording"? I told him what happened, told him I've called a dozen times and sent five e-mails and I've been ignored. I'm there to collect my money so they better find me a manager. He tells me to calm down and go inside. I can't make up the stupidity that followed. He tells me that the reason my e-mail wasn't answered was because I e-mailed their address from Uber reimbursements. Apparently when their shuttle isn't running they tell people to take an Uber and they'll reimburse me but these people are making the same complaints saying they aren't getting reimbursed either. So he writes down another e-mail address and tells me to e-mail that one and they'll take care of it. I think this moron actually thought that would be enough to get me to go away.
I told him I drove an hour to get there and I wasn't go away that easily. I told him I have a big sign and I'll be standing at the sidewalk. If they want me to go away they better find me a manager.
About 20 minutes later he walks out to the sidewalk and asked me what I'm doing there. I told him he obviously wasn't listening when I told him I'm going to stand there with a sign so they better find me a manger. He told me I'm crazy and said he was trying to help me. Giving me another e-mail address that where no one replies is trying to get rid of me, it's not helping. He then told me if I don't leave I'll never get my money. I told him that's where he's wrong because I'll file a lawsuit with the courts so he better get me a manger before I do their business some damage as well.
Well at this point he's mad and fell right into my trap. He said he's going to call the police. I told him good, I'm on public land. He tells me they have video of me walking their lot. And? I'm not on the property now. I didn't break and enter. I simply retraced the steps they had me take 3 weeks earlier with the locksmith to get to my truck while they threw their hands up in the air and walked away.
Well an hour later the Orange County Sheriff shows up and this whole thing backfires on BMI. The walk over to me and the first thing they tell me is that they respect my right to protest. They tell me they can't take sides on a trespass but they wanted to let me know they get called out there a lot! The police have been there 186 times in the last two years. I asked them why and they said a majority of the calls are for cars that are not on the lot when people get back from a trip. They don't know if the employees are joy riding them, moving them to another lot, or whatever, but after the police show up the cars magically appear back up on the lot.
I spent an hour talking to the police. I showed them my e-mails with Jeff, showed them my videos of me walking their lot, the keys on dashboards and in locks, etc. They took a a picture of me holding my sign so I could give it to Jeff. Then they noticed the signatures on my hat and asked about it. I took off my hat and showed them they were from Monster Jam. All three of these Sheriffs were huge fans. We had a good time talking about Monster Jam.
Thank you to the Sheriff that took this picture of me.
Before they left they gave me a trespass warning. They had to give that to me since they were called and BMI wanted it issued. It was just to notify me do not go back on their property. They asked where I parked and I showed them. I told them I planned everything out. I did everything in the proper order, I parked off their site, and I even made sure the 9mm I was concealing was left in my car until after I left their property. They showed me where they think the property started, gave me my 9mm back, and told me they respect what I'm doing and to stay safe.
During the three hours I was there I stopped several cars with my sign. A lot of people were anxious but ended up staying with their reservation because they had a flight to catch. I was able to get through to a few people who decided to leave even though they already paid for their reservation. The whole time I was one of these idiots would smile and wave at me every time he left the lot in his shuttle or when he returned. He's going to regret it.
All they had to do is honor their word and reimburse me $249. I figure I did over $250 in damage just by standing there holding my sign and that wasn't the end of it. I'll also note that a couple that was in the lobby the day we returned from our flight said they were going to park somewhere else and thanked us for saving them the nightmare. Natalie was being really loud about the situation and decided it wasn't worth the risk for them. When I got home from my morning of picketing I spent the $93 and filed a lawsuit with the Orange County Courts. I e-mailed Jeff and he setup an interview which just took place this week. It's suppose to air next week.
These days everyone just wants to be a keyboard warrior. Someone does them wrong and they vent on Yelp or Google. The problem is most of the people I talked that were parking at that lot that day already read the reviews but didn't know if they were true until they talked to me. If someone screws you over you have to take it to the next level. This isn't just bad service at a restaurant. These people are being negligent with people's vehicle's. For most people that's their second most valuable possession and it's needed to make a living but these people just throw them on their lot like it's an old shoe. What they did deserves more than just a negative review online.
I'm excited to see what happens when WFTV runs this story. These people messed with the wrong hombre!
The Phd Version
In a recent sojourn, I embarked on a visit to California to reunite with family. The preparations for my journey were beset with haste, rendering me unable to conduct a thorough investigation into parking options. Consequently, I resorted to the first option that surfaced in a cursory Google search. Regrettably, this impulsive decision would soon unveil its ill-fated consequences.
Upon my arrival, I was greeted by an unkempt parking lot, immersed in chaos. Disconcertingly, vehicles were haphazardly positioned, with some even obstructing the path to the vacant guard shack positioned in the middle of the thoroughfare. As I ventured into the facility's makeshift trailer, serving as their administrative hub, a disconcerting sign met my gaze – an announcement that the facility was overbooked, casting doubt on their ability to honor all reservations. To compound the disquiet, a prominent sign on the reception desk proclaimed their disavowal of responsibility for any items stored within the confines of patrons' vehicles, including firearms – a declaration seemingly devoid of legal merit.
However, the most disconcerting revelation lay in store. To my astonishment, it was incumbent upon me to surrender my vehicle's keys upon my arrival, thrusting my automobile into the care of the establishment. I was instructed to pull up my vehicle behind another, with the assurance that they would subsequently relocate my truck at their discretion.
This predicament left me ensnared in a conundrum, exacerbated by the impending departure of my flight scheduled within a mere two hours. Despite harboring reservations about the facility's competence, I opted not to jeopardize missing my flight. My anxiety swelled during my absence as I pondered the security and well-being of my entrusted vehicle.
Two weeks elapsed before my return to Orlando International Airport (MCO), where an unexpected message from BMI awaited me. Their inquiry pertained to my familiarity with the security code for my truck – a mystifying query, as it transpired that my vehicle's keys were inexplicably confined within the interior. The rationale behind this perplexing state of affairs eluded my comprehension.
Upon my arrival at the parking facility, I was subjected to a relentless barrage of queries concerning my knowledge of the aforementioned code, to which I was compelled to admit my ignorance. Possessing the FordPass application, I contemplated resolving the predicament via technological means. Alas, the prolonged absence of my vehicle had plunged it into a dormant state, necessitating an ignition restart to rouse it from its slumber.
As fate would have it, the facility maintained a "slim-jim," a tool frequently employed to address such predicaments due to its alarming frequency of occurrence on their premises. I embarked upon an arduous 40-minute interlude, during which their endeavors to unlock my truck ultimately culminated in failure.
Upon their return, the staff conceded defeat, tendering an email address and suggesting I contact a locksmith, with a pledge of reimbursement. My patience, heightened by my extensive reading of online reviews during my waiting period, waned as tales of unfulfilled reimbursements coursed through my mind. Notwithstanding my skepticism, the facility vehemently asserted my eligibility for reimbursement.
An ensuing engagement with a locksmith further underscored the disarray that pervaded the facility. This professional, burdened by the facility's erratic landscape, ventured only halfway into the lot before deeming it prudent to halt his vehicular progress due to an imposing pothole, which he deemed detrimental to his vehicle's welfare. Consequently, we embarked on a hot and muggy expedition, traversing the remainder of the facility's extensive lot on foot.
The labyrinthine nature of the lot, coupled with the intricate locks safeguarding my F-150, rendered the locksmith's services an expensive undertaking, amounting to a hefty sum of $249. The ensuing journey to transport the locksmith back to his vehicle was marked by moments of trepidation, as the narrow confines of the parking area afforded me a mere inch of clearance on either side.
Subsequently, upon my return home, I endeavored to communicate with the facility's management, in adherence to their assertion that the manager would be available around noon. However, the elusive manager's nonappearance persisted. I extended my efforts into the following week, only to be met with repeated disappointments in my pursuit of contact. The ostensible manager, I was informed, was ostensibly traveling, further compounding the facility's evasion of responsibility.
In the interim, I had persistently pursued communication via email, a channel that had regrettably proven unresponsive. In light of these circumstances, I embarked on an odyssey of phone calls, the culminating conversation revealing the existence of an intra-management dispute, accompanied by the convenient erasure of all related emails. This revelation cast further doubt on the facility's integrity, as the coexistence of an apparent management crisis and a veil of silence was disconcerting, to say the least.
In my adherence to the facility's prescribed protocol, I resorted to resending my communication via email, only to once again encounter an impenetrable wall of silence. At this juncture, I deemed it prudent to issue a final ultimatum through a phone call placed on a Wednesday afternoon, nearly three weeks after my return from my trip. I emphasized my desire to engage with a manager, despite encountering repeated assertions that their unavailability persisted and that I ought to persist with my email correspondence. My patience had worn thin, and I issued an ultimatum – failure to receive my reimbursement by the ensuing day would prompt me to initiate picketing activities in front of their establishment.
This ultimatum bore swift fruit, as I issued a fifth e-mail reiterating my stance. Simultaneously, I reached out to multiple news outlets, a decision that elicited an immediate response from Mr. Jeff Deal of WFTV-9. In our ensuing correspondence, Mr. Deal disclosed that the facility had already been inundated with a series of complaints, prompting an investigative inquiry into their operations. This revelation emboldened my resolve, as I vowed to appear at the facility on the upcoming Friday, equipped with the intention of gathering photographic and video evidence.
Regrettably, the constraints of my wife's schedule rendered her unable to accompany me and capture photographic evidence. Thus, I devised an alternative plan that would involve enlisting the assistance of local law enforcement to document my protest. Initially, my plan had entailed arriving at the facility at 5 AM, strategically timed to coincide with the early departures of many travelers. However, Mr. Deal had expressed a desire for a video tour of the facility's premises, compelling me to anticipate that once my presence on their radar became apparent, egress from their property would be mandated.
Consequently, I arrived on-site shortly before 7 AM, opting to park my vehicle at a nearby storage facility. My initial undertaking involved traversing the facility's premises while recording a video of my observations. Remarkably, this expedition remained unhindered, as I navigated past the facility's trailer, the vacant guard shack, and progressed more than halfway towards the rear of the expansive lot without encountering any intervention. Subsequently, I returned to the facility's office to confront the staff and initiate my planned protest.
Upon my return, my activities did not go unnoticed, prompting an inquiry from one of the facility's employees concerning the rationale behind my video documentation. I candidly recounted the chronicle of my experiences, underscoring the persistent neglect and lack of response to my inquiries. It was then that the facility's staff member advised me to remain calm and requested that I enter the office. Clearly, this misguided individual assumed that the issuance of an alternative email address would be sufficient to quell my agitation.
However, my resolve remained unshaken, as I reminded the staff member that I had traversed a considerable distance to be present and was undeterred by mere redirection. I emphatically conveyed my intent to employ a conspicuous sign and position myself along the adjacent sidewalk, further emphasizing my expectation that a manager be located posthaste.
Approximately 20 minutes later, the same staff member ventured to the sidewalk, seeking to ascertain my purpose for remaining on the premises. I succinctly reiterated my intentions, reminding him that I had previously informed him of my plan to station myself near the sidewalk, equipped with a sign that aimed to draw attention to my cause. My persistence was met with a declaration that I was "crazy," accompanied by a thinly veiled attempt to evict me from the vicinity. I resolutely rejected these efforts, firmly asserting my intention to await the arrival of a manager.
At this juncture, the staff member's frustration grew palpable, as he levied a threat that I would never receive my reimbursement unless I elected to vacate the premises. Unbeknownst to him, this ultimatum played directly into my hands, as I promptly informed him that such a stance would precipitate the commencement of a lawsuit, initiated through the legal apparatus. I warned that this course of action would invariably cast a shadow over their business operations.
Seemingly incensed by my persistence, the staff member succumbed to his frustration, thereby unwittingly advancing my cause. He declared his intention to summon law enforcement, a decision that I welcomed with open arms. To his dismay, I reminded him that my presence was confined to public land, thereby rendering law enforcement intervention well within my rights. He also threatened to produce video footage of my earlier exploration of the lot, to which I responded with a categorical affirmation, as my actions had consistently adhered to legality.
Approximately an hour later, representatives from the Orange County Sheriff's Office arrived at the scene, responding to the facility's request for law enforcement intervention. To their credit, the officers exhibited an admirable commitment to upholding civil liberties and supporting peaceful protests. While unable to take sides in the trespass dispute, they commended my dedication to the cause of consumer rights and safety.
During our ensuing conversation, I shared with the officers the evidence that had accumulated throughout my ordeal, including my correspondence with Mr. Jeff Deal of WFTV and videos documenting the state of vehicles within the facility's premises, replete with keys visible on dashboards and within locks. Recognizing the potential gravity of the situation, the officers issued a trespass warning, as per the facility's request, effectively preventing me from returning to their property.
Before their departure, the officers delineated the property boundaries, returned my concealed 9mm firearm – temporarily relinquished prior to my entry into the facility – and expressed their appreciation for my advocacy efforts. It was evident that they understood the weight of the situation and encouraged me to continue my pursuit of resolution through appropriate channels.
My brief yet impactful picketing efforts elicited varied responses from patrons who had reservations at the facility. While some remained resolute in their travel plans, others, upon hearing of my experiences, made the courageous decision to forgo their reservations, despite having already paid for them. These interactions underscored the significance of advocating for consumer rights and safety, as patrons grappled with the decision of whether to entrust their vehicles to a facility riddled with concerns.
As the narrative unfolds and the investigative report prepared by Mr. Jeff Deal airs, I maintain a cautious optimism that it will serve as a catalyst for transformative change within the parking industry. My actions, motivated by a sense of duty not only to my own interests but also to those of prospective patrons, underscore the profound importance of ensuring a secure, reliable, and trustworthy environment for individuals who entrust their vehicles to parking facilities. Ultimately, the pursuit of justice and accountability may ignite a broader transformation within the realm of business operations and consumer protection.
So, like, a few weeks back, I'm all pumped to visit my fam out in California, right? I'm in a total hurry to book everything, so I didn't even bother with checking out the parking situation. I just went with the first thing Google threw at me. Big mistake!
I roll up to this sketchy lot, it's all messy and chaotic. Folks are parking wherever the heck they want, even in front of the empty guard shack smack in the middle of the road. So, I saunter into their so-called "office," which is just a trailer, mind you. And what do I see? A sign saying they're overbooked and might not honor my reservation. On top of that, there's another sign on the front desk basically saying, "Not our problem if your stuff gets jacked, even if it's a freakin' gun!" Yeah, like that'd hold up in court. But wait, there's more! They drop the bomb that I gotta hand over my keys. They make me park right behind some other car and tell me they'll move my truck later.
Now, I'm in a real jam here. My flight's about to bounce in two hours, and I've got a bad vibe about this place. But I can't risk missing my flight, so I roll the dice. I'm anxious as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs the whole time I'm gone, wondering what's happening with my ride.
Fast forward two weeks, and I'm back at MCO. I get this text from BMI asking me if I know the code for my truck. Turns out, they locked my keys inside and want my truck ready for me. Seriously, why in the world are my keys locked in my own dang truck?
I get to their lot, and they keep bugging me about this code like I'm supposed to be a mind reader. Nope, I got the FordPass app, but my truck's been snoozin' for two weeks. Only way to wake it up is to fire up the engine. They whip out a slim-jim like it's no big deal; they've seen this movie before. So, I twiddle my thumbs for a good 40 minutes while they fumble trying to open my truck.
When they finally give up, they just scribble down an email address and tell me to call a locksmith, promising to foot the bill. But as I'm reading reviews while waiting, I see a bunch of folks saying they didn't get jack. They swear up and down I'll get my cash back, but I ain't so sure. I make that locksmith call and start scouring the lot for my truck.
I'm strolling around, and I can't believe my eyes. These folks should've been shut down ages ago. There are keys left in every dang car, and none of 'em are locked. One car even had keys in the lock! Some are parked on steep hills, bumpers touching the dirt, hugging trees like a long-lost lover. They got cars packed in there like sardines, and it's no shocker that folks are leaving with banged-up rides. They're stacking 'em tight just to squeeze out every penny. And if your car gets smushed? Tough luck, sue 'em? Good luck with that; they know most folks won't bother.
Finally, the locksmith rolls up, about 40 minutes later. Dude makes it about halfway through the lot before he's like, "Nah, this pothole's gonna wreck my ride." So, we hoof it the rest of the way in the sticky morning heat. Unlocking my F-150 ain't cheap, let me tell ya. Cost me $249. I drive the locksmith back to his ride, but it's so cramped in there, I've only got an inch of clearance on each side in some spots.
Back home, I ring up their office, and they keep jerking me around. "Manager will be in at noon," they say. But guess what? No manager. "Oh, manager's traveling," they claim. Meanwhile, I've been shooting emails into the void, getting crickets in response. So, I keep dialing. Next time I call, they're like, "Oh, there's some manager beef, and all the emails got trashed. Just shoot another one." Seriously? They can't find a manager, but they know about this beef? Come on!
I do as they say and shoot off another email. Still nada. So, I make one last call, on a Wednesday afternoon, almost three weeks after my trip. I tell 'em straight up, "I wanna talk to a manager." But this dude on the line keeps saying, "No manager here, just send another email." I'm like, "Bro, nobody's answering those dang emails!" I drop the bomb that if I don't have my dough by tomorrow, I'm picketing their joint. I fire off a fifth email with the same threat.
Then, I reach out to a bunch of news outlets, and bam, Jeff Deal from WFTV-9 gets back to me. He says they're already sniffing around complaints about this place. So, Jeff wants me there on Friday with video and pics.
My wife's too busy to snap pics of me, so I hatch a plan. One that involves the police taking my pic for me. My original idea was to show up at 5 AM when all the early birds are flying out. But Jeff wants a video of the lot, and I know once I'm on their radar, they'll boot me off their turf. The sun comes up at 7:07, so I roll in just before 7.
I park at the storage place next door. First thing I do is stroll through the lot, recording a video. I breeze right by their trailer, no one bats an eye. Past their empty guard shack, and I'm halfway to the back of the lot before anyone says a peep. Finally, when I figure I've got enough footage, I mosey back to their office and lay it on 'em.
The dude inside asks, "Why are you recording?" I spill the beans, tell him I've called a dozen times, sent five emails, and they've been giving me the silent treatment. I'm here to collect my dough, so they better dig up a manager. He tries to tell me to chill and go inside. But what comes next, I can't even believe.
He tells me the reason my emails went unanswered is because I emailed their Uber reimbursements address. Apparently, when their shuttle ain't running, they tell folks to Uber it and promise to pay 'em back. But guess what? Folks with the same gripe say they're not getting reimbursed either. So, this genius writes down yet another email and tells me to hit that one up, and they'll sort it out. Like, seriously? Did he really think that'd make me vanish into thin air?
I lay it out for him; I drove an hour to be there, and I ain't leaving that easy. I tell him I got a big ol' sign, and I'll be posted up on the sidewalk. If they want me gone, they better find me a manager.
About 20 minutes later, he strolls out to the sidewalk, all puzzled-like, asking what I'm doing. I tell him, "Dude, didn't you hear me? I'm holding a sign and I'll be right here until you cough up a manager." He calls me crazy, says he was tryin' to help. Giving me another email address that leads to nowhere ain't helpin', my friend. Then he drops the bomb that if I don't scram, I'll never see my cash. I set him straight, told him he's dead wrong 'cause I'll drag 'em to court if I have to, and that'll be a real pain in their rear.
Well, now he's mad, and he walks right into my trap. He threatens to call the cops. I'm like, "Great, I'm on public land!" He says they got video of me prowling their lot. And? I ain't on their turf now. I didn't break in; I just retraced the steps they had me take three weeks ago with the locksmith while they threw in the towel and bailed.
An hour later, the Orange County Sheriff rolls in, and the tables turn on BMI. They come over to me and lay it out: they respect my right to protest. They can't take sides on the trespass, but they wanna clue me in—they get called to this place a lot! They don't know if the employees are joyriding the cars, shifting 'em to another lot, or whatever, but after the cops show up, the cars mysteriously reappear on the lot.
I'm jawin' with the cops for an hour, showing 'em my emails with Jeff, playing my videos, and showing 'em the keys all over the place. They even take a pic of me holding my sign so I can pass it on to Jeff. Then they spot the signatures on my hat and ask about it. I take off my hat, show 'em it's from Monster Jam. Turns out, all three of these sheriffs are big Monster Jam fans. We're chattin' it up about Monster Jam like old buddies.
Before they take off, they slap me with a trespass warning. Had to do it 'cause they were called, and BMI wanted it. Just a heads-up: don't go back on their property. They ask where I parked, and I show 'em. I planned it all out—did everything by the book, parked off their turf, and made sure my concealed 9mm stayed in my car until I was off their property. They show me where they think their property line starts, give me my 9mm back, and tell me they respect what I'm doing and to stay safe.
While I'm there for those three hours, I flag down a bunch of cars with my sign. Some folks are all jittery, but they stick with their reservations 'cause they gotta catch a flight. But I get through to a few, and they bounce even though they've already shelled out for their spot. I'll also mention, there was a couple hangin' out in the lobby the day we got back from our trip, and they decided to park somewhere else and thanked us for saving 'em from the nightmare. Natalie was making a ruckus about it, and they figured it wasn't worth the risk. After my morning of picketing, I spend the $93 to file a lawsuit with the Orange County Courts. I shoot Jeff an email, and he lines up an interview, which just went down this week. It's supposed to air next week.
Now, a lot of folks these days just wanna be keyboard warriors. Somebody does 'em wrong, and they spew their rage on Yelp or Google. But here's the deal: most of the folks parking there that day had already seen the reviews, but they didn't know if they were true 'til they talked to me. If someone screws you over, you gotta crank it up a notch. This ain't just lousy service at some diner. These folks are straight-up careless with people's rides. For most folks, that's their second most valuable thing, and they need it to make a living. But these guys just toss 'em on their lot like yesterday's trash. What they did ain't just deserving of a bad online review.
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