Keepin’ it brief tonight, ’cause this crazy day’s not even close to over. And my heart is kind of racing from all my rushing and schlepping. Part of the “cray” of today was a trip to the DMV.
Oh, DMV. Ever the acute ass pain are you.
I had to renew my driver’s license. It expired on my recent 2×4 to the face of a 34th birthday. I always keep the license current, despite never in my life having driven in New York City. And may the Force see to it that I never have to drive in New York City. Because I suffer from severe panic attacks, and nothing is more certain to spark one than a wall of speedy pedestrians confronting behind-the-wheel Stacy.
So, yeah. This week’s struggle (as well as next week’s) pertains to cars.
“The Only Car I Have Ever Wanted”
Without qualification, my #1 fave aspect of NYC is the subway – the only 24-hour subway on Earth. My passion for brisk walking (sometimes 100 blocks at a time for exercise/exploring on weekends) would tie for #1 fave NYC aspect if it weren’t an aspect of the former.
I LOVE LIFE SANS CARS!!!
Car-lessness is one of the main reasons I refuse to live anywhere else.
More on that next week!
Now, car-less life does pose certain logistical problems…especially for someone of my size.
In Musing #12, wherein I publicly mourned the culling of my beloved library in the name of space, I mentioned this:
…I’m donating two boxes full of my sadly rejected books to NYC Books Through Bars. ‘Cause if I must part with them, they must go to someone who will actually read them. And prisoners read.
Well, guess what! Three musings later, those two full boxes of books are still clogging my thimble…I mean, living room.
Because I’m not strong enough to carry even one (let alone two) of those boxes down from the third floor and out to the street for cab-hailing. Nor am I strong enough to carry one from a cab into the building for which both boxes are bound. One of these days, my roommate Winston and I will actually be free at the same time. (I’m a 9-to-5er, he’s a club bartender.) Together, we can get it done. He’ll be haulin’, I’ll be cab-hailin’ (and payin’).
Had I a car, I’d carry individual armfuls of books down to it, drive it to Brooklyn and unload it in the same piecemeal fashion. But, alas, my best approximation of “car” is the combination of quality shoes and enormous handbags.
NEVER skimp on shoes, New Yorkers!
Save up for the good ones. The cheapsters will wreak podiatric havoc.
Tune in next Friday for Musing #16: My License, My Accident and the GRE (or CARS, Part II).
Until then, “Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!”
Bag Lady Stacy