Leaky Faucets

Yesterday, we rented a car and drove back to Queens from Aya’s sister’s house in Pennsylvania. I hadn’t driven in a while other then when I parked Gahum’s minivan in our neighborhood a few weeks ago because he was too lazy to move it himself. The drive was pretty pleasant-it was sunny and the snow had long stopped. There was a little problem getting the rental car unstuck from the snow so we ended up with a smaller car which was fine with me. We’ll be driving a lot more now that we have Ana. We just can’t take her and all her accoutrements on the bus with us. I mean, we could, but we don’t want to. We don’t really need to buy a car, just rent one when we need to go out of town.

Traffic wasn’t too bad until we got to Manhattan. It took us two hours to get from Maki’s to Manhattan then another hour to get to hour house which is only about seven miles.

Saw an interesting bumper sticker on a car in front of us as we sat in crosstown Traffic. “Mondale Ferraro.” I had to do a double take and reassure myself that it wasn’t 1984. This was a brand new bumper sticker. I don’t get it. I guess the point is anyone is better than George Bush, even a ticket that lost two decades ago.

This wasn’t my first time driving through Manhattan, but it’s been a while. It’s a strange feeling being on the other side of the car-pedestrian continuum. Normally I’m trying to cross a street and thinking to myself “get the fuck out of my way you fucking gas guzzler.” This time I’m driving through the intersection thinking “you stupid pedestrian, stay out of my way. I’m trying my best not to kill you.”

As always, parking was the worst part of the trip. Finding a spot in Jackson Heights is normally very difficult, but after a snow storm it’s almost impossible. All the good spots you find that aren’t in front of hydrants or driveways are deluged with unsurmountable mounds of snow. So, after dropping the girls off, I made a few loops around the neighborhood. I had resolved to park at Mark Twain Diner–which is about a 10-minute walk from our place–if I didn’t find a spot this go round. But someone was looking out for me because I found a beauty of a spot near the corner of 34^th Avenue and 71^st Street. Someone had already shoveled it and it was huge. A terrible parallel parker, even I was able to back in on the first try. It was a bit far away, but I managed to bring our shitload of baby gear in three trips. It took over an hour.

Last task: fill up the tank and return the car to Budget near LaGuardia. I knew gas was expensive but I didn’t expect to pay $18 for half a tank of the Ford Taurus. It’s really been a long time since I filled up a tank myself. Not since gas has been this high probably. I dropped off the car a bit after 8:00 p.m. I was amazed how efficient and quick the system was. I didn’t even have to go inside. The attendant asked if I needed a bus to the airport. “No,” I said. “You have transportation?” “Yeah. My feet. I’m running home.” I imagine this is the first time he’s heard this. It was less than two miles away and there were no good public transportation options. I didn’t want to pay extra for a cab home so I had changed into my running gear and decided to hoof it home. I hadn’t run today anyway. Yeah, it was cold, but I’ve run in much colder. It was a bit icy in parts though so I had to be careful. I made it home without killing myself and got a good workout too.

Sometimes, like about an hour ago when Ana wouldn’t stop crying, I felt like screaming myself. Who would plug something in my mouth to shut me up until I fall asleep?