eastcoastwestcoast:

Saturday evening, I had a feeling of summertime in New York city; something about the sunlight later in the day now that spring has arrived and the bright blue skies. A small group of us sat in the window of a South African-themed wine bar in Hell's Kitchen and enjoyed tasty treats and glasses of wine. This photo below is a chocolate fondue, absolutely deeeee-lish, with marshmallows and bright red strawberries and banana chunks.

See the hubcaps in the photo, across the sidewalk? That's a "No Parking Zone", a taxi stand, yet the sign is obscured by scaffolding outside the building. So to the souls driving around and around and around Manhattan looking for a parking spot, this parking spot at first seemed like a miracle of miracles. You could just see every car parallel park with purpose, totally psyched, ready for their soiree... and then reality setting in after they saw the sign. It's like seeing a fire hydrant at the last minute, ah, it had to be too good to be true.

So first, we watched a car get hooked up to the NYPD tow truck. And then, as the tow truck was sitting there, trying to get into the car to disable the emergency brake, another car pulled up and parallel parked into the space right in front of it. We were cracking up at this, like, are you kidding me? It's "shooting fish in a barrel" time for the NYPD - but then the driver came out of the car and asked the tow truck if it was okay... and promptly got back in and drove away.

The car owners for the towed car came running up midway through the driver trying to break in to get the emergency brake, a poor couple obviously out on a date from out-of-state (judging from the license plate) and everyone in the restaurant let out a roaring cheer. Seriously, I hadn't realized how many of us were watching the scene unfold until that happened. We all gave each other that knowing nod, and then went back to watching the show. The poor couple stood for 15 minutes and we all wondered whether there was some sort of "once you're on the truck, you're out of luck" rule. But the driver wrote the ticket and then lowered their car. And off they sped, back to New Jersey.

This scene sparked a whole conversation about tow truck driving as an occupation - how many confrontations must one get into every night? And yet, does the driver feel a certain enjoyment, cruising around in the chariot, lost in daydreams, minding one's own business until called in for a crimebusting towaway?

Later in the evening, two dudes pulled up, ready for a big night on the town, wearing their sparkly graffiti baseball hats and ultrabaggy pants. We watched as they walked back and forth, staring up at the no parking sign, then walking to the end of the block to see if there was a different sign, perhaps one that said "cancel that, go ahead, park there for a lifetime". They were about to walk away and then noticed the whole restaurant watching them through the window.

We made eye contact, and in that moment - - seeing that they were clearly feeling that glorious elation of a weekend adventure in the big city, wearing the coolest clothes in their closet and all pumped from listening to good tunes on the drive into town - - I couldn't let them walk away from a surefire $150+ ticket.

So I gave them the universal signal of the "don't do it, we've been watching cars get ticketed all night", i.e., shaking my head, sheepishly grinning, mouthing "no". The guy stopped and mouthed, "really?" and I nodded, and spun my finger over my head to mimic a police siren and then mimed writing a ticket. He nodded, wide eyes and mouthed, "ohhhhh".

And the dudes got back in their car, started it up and drove down 51st Street towards the Hudson River, in search of a better miracle parking spot and the kickoff of a New York City adventure evening.