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| | How to Survive the Eastside of NYC in a traffic jam in the driving rain
Posted on 09/16/2008 by Spike
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So imagine this: You've just had your FIRST DAY OFF in 43 days. In fact, you've just had 5 consecutive days off, and you've spent your treasured time with your blooming romance in NC. 5 blissful days of vaca and now you're en route to KRF where a beach house full of Lost Boys and your much-missed boss await. You've been driving solo for 9 hours, you're finally hitting the George Washington Bridge.
Ahem: How to Survive the Eastside of NYC in a traffic jam in the driving rain:
1. Coo on the phone with your beau to illicit happy feelings. Giggle like a little girl. Talk about the hair cut you desperately want. Lament to your manchildfriend about the 15th traffic meltdown in which you've just arrived. Make sure to actually count the jams for accuracy. Make it a game.
2. Hang up the phone after making obligatory kissy noise into receiver and deal with the pudding-ed traffic and to avoid the shot at getting a shame-on-you-multi-tasking-ticket. Continue eating French fries while painting your piggies and rough drafting blogs about NYC traffic. When your phone chirps with the "you just wasted your battery with baby talk" noise, do not jump a foot, spill your fries and knock over the polish. Bad form.
3. Think up clever bumper stickers to pass the time. "I'm only speeding because I've got Pb poisoning." Meh. Lame at best.
4. What's that smell? Is it coming from your car? Check the gages. Uh oh! The temperature gage is climbing faster than a mountain goat on speed. Overheating in a traffic jam? Keep cool. Or rather, don't. Fact: full blast defrost on hot can sometimes bring the temp down on an overheating engine. The heat may be too much in the 90F big outdoors, so roll down a window. Yeah, it's raining. So what? A little water never hurt anyone. Except 32 people in Texas. Try and stay calm, after all, the car pile up can't last forever and you've got plenty of--
5. Check the gages more often. FEET? Is that a little foot symbol? As in, get out and walk? As in, you're almost out of gas you fool why didn't you pay attention? As in, Oh, crap! Low on fuel? Turn off things that will suck gas air conditioners, defrosters (uh oh), etc, and keep your speed under 55mph. Check.
6. Think up clever bumper stickers to pass the time. "I'm only speeding because I'm homophobic." Come on, that's next to brilliant.
7. While you're sitting still in the driving rain, progressively becoming more soaked, waiting for a miracle/seemingly inevitable mechanical breakdown, why not take in some sights from the comfort of your overheating, underfueled car? Squint through the torrential downpour to take in the not-so-distant horizon. Check out some of that famous New York architecture. Oh look, Projects.
8. Was that a gun shot? Avert your gaze post haste, look to the road and the not-moving traffic.
9. Face it, you're fracked. Out of gas, overheating, dead cell phone. Time to pump up your street cred and cowboy up your adrenaline. Locate the mixed CD with the meanest, most blatantly badass music you possess, and throw on the last track. Nod your head quietly to the beat while the straight forward lyrics transport you to a safe place,
"I don't give a f***!/ Not a single f***!/ Not a single solitary f***!/ Cuz I don't give a f***!" play the song on repeat 8 times, as traffic begins to crawl.
10. Stop chewing your nails. You're moving now, almost halfway through the city.
11. Stop chewing the skin around your nails. You might totally make it.
12. Think up clever bumper stickers to pass the time. "I'm only speeding because I'm wet and scared and trying to get airflow to my engine and make it to a gas station before my car dies and I have a heart attack and heart disease runs in my family so it's a real possibility at this point and I don't want to die in a meth bust. " Be honest with yourself. That would never fit on one sticker.
13. Stop chewing the bloody stubs where your nails used to be. You made it through the city!
14. Thank your maker for New Rochelle, and even allow yourself to laugh when the gas attendant tells you you've pulled into the self-serve island and "You'll have to pump your own gas." Honey, I'm from Michigan; it's all I know.
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