Thursday, October 15, 2015

so many things to remind me in the future

We had the mini-van again. My parents were biking from Prague to Budapest and left their light blue 2006 Honda Odyssey in our clutches for the duration. They were barely dropped off at the airport before Tom and I had schematics of the large objects which were about to get moved around.

And so we found ourselves careening up 8th Avenue in the pouring rain last week, hauling a gigantic table. Our plan was to drop the table off at our apartment and then head uptown to see a one-man-show entitled, “My Son the Waiter: A Jewish Tragedy."

It was not going well.

First of all, as soon as you put a light blue Honda mini-van with Pennsylvania plates in the proximity of the Holland Tunnel, you get every snot-nosed driver within eye shot honking at you and trying to cut you off. Like you’ve got the wheelsmanship of some kind of slow-witted floppy bear-like animal. 

Just because my father has a decal of some kind of slow-witted floppy bear-like animal stuck on the hatchback of his mini-van does not mean anything but Tom cackling things like, “Ha ha ha. Just try it, Lincoln Navigator. No one will ever notice if this mini-van gets another scratch on it." 

Usually I am squawking about getting carsick when Evil Tom starts snickering at cabbies and slithering between traffic cones,  but the mini-van has surprisingly good suspension and I was edgy. We were getting later and later for the start time of the one-man-show.

Finally, we get up to our block, lock up the mini-van and sprint for the train. Remind me not to take the 1 train again. It has more stops than there are streets in manhattan. I thought we had made a fatal error not making a run for the 2 in Times Square.

We made it on time. The one-man, of the show, somehow spilled a drink on a guy in the front row of the theatre as he was getting on the stage. This caused a small napkin dabbing hubbub with a duration just long enough for us to arrive. 

Meanwhile, the gigantic table remained in the mini-van parked curbside. Until we got back downtown and hauled it up to our apartment. Where is remains, still gigantic. Remind me in the future that scale is a thing. 
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