The toll booth

Hi everyone, I thought I might take the opportunity to remind y’all that occasionally I decide to throw in my two cents despite the fact that K is clearly the driving force behind the blog (and mostly everything else for that matter). The reason? My epic trip to Yale on Friday.

It began by LLF and Captain Jack keeping us up most of the night, and by 5 AM, we surrendered to the day. I went into work early to get a couple of hours in before driving up. Upon arriving to the garage, I was lucky enough to find the car battery dead. No matter – I was leaving myself plenty of time. I planned on getting to Yale at 11:30 to stop by to say hi to a few people before my 1 PM meeting.

That was not to be. After getting the car going, I headed out and up the FDR. Crossing the bridge out of Manhattan, I was soon reminded of K’s criticism that no matter what else befalls this planet, one thing can be guaranteed – I would pick to absolute worse line possible. This proved true once again as I followed another car into the easy pass lane instead of choosing the empty lane next to it. The car came to a complete stop, apparently unaware that the tollbooth would for some reason then not have a person in it. They were about to back up so I did what I thought I must – back up to avoid being hit, and try to get into the nearby, empty lane. A large truck behind me was blocking any oncoming traffic so this was easy to do as long as I didn’t dawdle.

The next thing I knew, I was being flagged don by a cop who came running out to pull both the offensive vehicle ahead of me as well as myself over into the orange cones behind the tollbooth. First I received a lecture on the illegality of my decision and was told I should have let the other car back up into me since he was there to fill out the accident report. I was also told I backed up “much, much too fast”, despite my protests I needed to back up quickly while the truck was protecting my ability to do so. Upon request for my paperwork, I first dumbly handed him a CA registration rom 2008. He questioned whether I even had insurance and then left me to find the paperwork while he dealt with the other vehicle. Twenty minutes later he again graced me with his presence. I had found my registration but was told that my inspection (seriously NY, you have to get you car inspected every year?) had expired (somehow I forget to do it while K was busy having a baby during the hurricane). Following my time-tested strategy when being pulled over of being overly apologetic as well as a bit frazzled (the last part comes naturally), I again avoided a ticket. K isn’t sure whether to be happy that I never get tickets or annoyed that I can hold it over her if I so choose.

Since we were leaving the car in CT with Boo, I had to get the car inspected so I pulled off the highway just before leaving New York state and pulled into a garage. Of course, the garage across the street was the one that did inspections. And since I turned off the car, the battery decided it hadn’t quite has enough time to recharge. After a second jump from a very helpful guy (the people I ran into were terrific), I was able to drive the 50 feet over to the inspection location, and somehow with the dead battery, the car was able to still pass.

I got to Yale at 1:15, almost two hours after I had intended. However, the meeting was great, the car started up before I headed back down to drop it off at its new home, and my train pulled into Grand Central before midnight. All in all, probably an easier day than K had manning the fort back home.

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One Response to The toll booth

  1. Junior says:

    I had a stressful day yesterday, too.

    Leftover chicken pot pie or cheese quesadilla for dinner? Should I eat seconds? (Yup.) Duck Dynasty or college basketball on TV? Pabst or Deschutes IPA? Should I go for a second beer, or get to bed early?

    Woof, I was tuckered out.

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