I have never sweat so much in my entire life as I have in the past 4 weeks. But today – today was an epic sweatfest.
And don’t you dare cringe; you sweat too and I know it.
So Sweatfest 2010 started with moving the old roommate out. Boxes and appliances and a television and mattresses… etc. You get the picture. May I remind you we’re on the third floor of a pre-war building?Oh yes, and this means no elevator, and certainly no AC (if you know the Fitzgerald’s then you realize how much this hurts).
Still, I’m not going to whine too much. The apartment is great, location is ideal, and the price is just right.
The view from my window
But the car situation… Here’s a helpful hint. Do NOT bring your car to New York.
Poor Lucile. She has been through it! First we drove to Queens, and the GPS completely freaked out when we entered the city. Because there are so many ways to get to the same place, the little woman constantly says “Recalculating. Recalculating.” This may have stressed me out… but only a little.
Finally, I arrived in Queens. So I parked my car on the street in a spot that looked acceptable. No signs saying, “Parking Not Permitted," no yellow lines, and no fire hydrants.
I went back to check on Lucy the next day. All was fine. Another day passes and I think “Hey, even though I know everything’s going to be alright, I’ll check on my car one more time…”
And BAM. Ticket. A big old, blaring orange, you-are-obviously-new here ticket is scarring Lucy’s windshield. And this ugly blemish cost me $45 bucks!
This may have stressed me out… but only a little.
I have since learned the street-cleaning schedule and now understand my car must flip flop sides of the street every three days.
But of course my car is not always on my mind…, which is why on Sunday evening when I was in the city with some friends, I realized quite suddenly, that Monday was occurring in a few brief hours.
Blasted Monday… any idea what Monday is? Yes – street cleaning day. And darn it, I was NOT going to blow my commission on another ticket!
This may have stressed me out… but only a little.
So I marched home at 2:00 in the morning and snuck into the apartment as quietly as possible. I grabbed the keys to Lucy and stormed back onto the street. Determined to not be burned by the system again, I walked to the car and hopped inside.
And then the most unfortunate thing happed.
Lucy would not start. The keys wouldn’t turn and the wheel was locked up.
Okay, it’s now 2:30am and I’m in New York and my car won’t start and the little traffic cop will give me a ticket in a few hours time.
This may stressed me out… but only a little. Well, maybe a little bit more than a little.
Lucy's antics are making it easy for me to send her home.
After some frantic calls on a low-battery cell phone, I was finally able to get some help from the ever-reliable Mr. Stephen Labelle.
“Just keep turning the key… back and forth… just keep trying…” a very sleepy voice said on the phone.
“Ahh… I am. But it’s not wor…” Just then the keys popped into place and Lucy, that little trickster, lit up and roared like some caged animal.
“Oh. Yep. That worked.” After several extremely sincere “thank you’s” I hung up the phone and found a new parking place for my needy vehicle.
But today… definitely was the strangest day with my car.
I walked to the spot where I had parked Lucy the night before and she was GONE. You remember Sweatfest 2010!? Yeah I was sweating. Big time. Where was my Lucy! And why was she such a problem!?
This really stressed me out – and not a little, or even an average amount. This really stressed me out.
Oddly enough, I just kept walking. I strolled past the construction workers that now inhabited Lucy’s parking spot. I walked… frustrated and confused. But I was going to walk it off.
And then, there. A few parking places up the street, sat the lovely Lucile. She was unharmed and only a little dirty. Luckily enough, all my black garbage bags of clothes were still piled in the backseat.
My car was towed, but not towed away and not ticketed. Just simply towed.
What the @#$% New York?
The day ended with me lugging 6 bags of clothes from my car to the apartment three blocks away.
Yeah… so that was Sweatfest 2010. And you no what?
I loved it.
