Another day, another urban horror story.
Here’s why we can’t have nice things in New York. Today I wake up to the beautiful sound of my awful alarm at 8:30 (I’m one of those people lucky to have a 10-6). I get dressed, do my daily routine, and get ready to head out, until I realize it’s August 1st and I’m without a monthly metrocard as of today.
Ehhh, I don’t feel like spending $120 this morning for a new one. To avoid this inevitable payment that will come eventually, I open my email and find just what I’m looking for: Take 5 rides for $2.95! UGH, love a good Via deal.
So naturally, why not commute in style like a true Upper East Sider?
I call a via, 10 minutes away. Shit. I look at the time; I got 25 minutes until 10 AM. When my Via arrives in a Mercedez SUV, I hop in and say hello to Kenneth, my chauffeur.
All is well on the speedy highway drive to 23rd street. It’s 9:54; I’ll make it just in time after we cross over to Broadway from the East River.
We stop after reaching 2nd Ave. I roll my eyes as I realize we’re behind a stopped truck. There’s nothing I hate more on the road than driving behind trucks. There just isn’t.
Then I see the sanitation workers hop out of the truck and start to collect several of the hundred garbage bags lined along the street.
Fuck. Ok, give them like 3 minutes and we’ll be on our way.
Five minutes pass. Kenneth calls someone and says, “hey buddy, I’m on my way but I’m stuck behind a garbage truck. It’s crazy. I’ll be there in a few minutes, ok?”
Oh shit, things aren’t looking good. When a driver calls the next passenger to apologize for being late, I’m not getting anywhere.
We move about 20 feet up behind the truck. The truck stops again. I look out the window and see about 50 bags and boxes that 2 of the workers start grabbing. I am no where near leaving.
I send an email to my boss:
sorry…running late. In a cab stuck behind a garbage truck 🙁
“This is ridiculous!” my driver exclaims. I agree.
10:15 hits. We finally cross 2nd ave…and my amazing driver follows the garbage truck. Seriously, dude? We stop again, stuck in a one-way lane. Great job. Didn’t even think to drive away from the truck when we had the chance.
“Uh, I think I’m just gonna get out here,” I say super casual, then open my car door. “Thanks, though.”
Then I walk half a mile to work, because New York. Because we can’t drive in style to work in New York. Because we can’t have nice things in New York.
Because it’s New York.
-mike, the struggling upper east sider