Cars and Driving

I guess by New York City standards I got my driver’s license on the early side at 19 but by the rest of the country’s standards I’d bet that’s on the late side. At the time I was living on Long Island and dealing with public transportation was eating up too much of my time.  I was lucky enough to get a deal on a 1990 Toyota Corolla from my mom’s friend.  The problem was that I got the car before I had my license and the car sat in the driveway for a while. 

The first time I took the car out by myself ended up being a harrowing experience.  A friend’s parents were going on vacation so in an effort to make my life easier and cut out traveling from Long Island to Manhattan and back every night, I decided to crash at his place for the week.  I packed my bags and loaded up the car.

Growing up in the city we didn’t really have access to cars and most of our going out was limited to walking or taking the subway.  Adding a car to the mix meant the world had become our oyster. 

I started down Glen Cove Road, a normal two lane road with stop lights.  Every second knowing that I was getting closer to my first real fear, the Long Island Expressway.  The LIE features tractor trailers flying by three lanes at 60 and 70 miles an hour at all points in time.  Poorly operating a sedan that feels like a tinker toy, leads to panic attacks in better men.  After fifteen minutes I found myself in the belly of the beast.  I hugged the right lane like a stuffed animal.  That day I was the most consciousness driver in the history of mankind, you need to merge, merge away, you need to pass, I’m slowing down to a crawl.   I make it to Astoria and to the safety of familiarity and luxury items like stop signs and traffic lights. 

I dropped off my stuff and we discussed what we should do with our new found freedom.   In past summers we would house sit for this friend’s sister and brother in law, in Forest Hills.  We fell in love with a few spots in the neighborhood but none more than UJay’s dinner right off of Austin Street.  Fast fact, the Triple Bypass cover for “Memories We Never Had” was shot at UJay’s.  So it became painstakingly apparent where our first local roadtrip would take us.  We piled into the car and headed towards the boulevard of death, Queens Boulevard.  Actually at that point I don’t think Queens Boulevard, the yet to be shot Vinnie Chase movie, had been deemed the boulevard of death.  That probably came a few summers later when two or three pedestrians were killed within a month of each other.

The drive up Queens Boulevard was scary but manageable.  Stop lights can be your friend when you have 12 lanes of traffic and concrete dividers.  What I learned more than anything that day is that the hardest part of driving isn’t controlling the car, it’s paying attention to all the signs.  We made it to Austin Street without incident but we couldn’t find a parking spot.  We circled Queens Boulevard and Austin Street, each time extending the circle and making our way down side streets.  Most of the residential areas in Queens don’t have parking restrictions outside of street cleaning which usually happens in the mornings.  We ended up on a very nice, quiet street about three blocks from Austin.  We bounced out of the car with a spring in our step.  Everything was working out for us.  We headed to UJay’s and a couple of bacon cheeseburgers deluxes later we walked Austin Street stopping at the Disney Store and Gamestop to waste some time and do some shopping.  All in all it was a pretty perfect evening.  Friends, food, and freedom. 

We walked back to the car and with just my luck, I see a car double parked next to the Corolla.  What are the chances that of all the cars on the street, this guy decides to box me in.  Just great.  As I walk up to the driver’s side door I see a note glued to the window.  It says: “You have illegally parked on a private street.  There is a Boot on your car.  Call this number to get it removed.”  The panic I felt on the LIE seemed trivial to this, to this world shattering fear.  I pulled out my gray Motorola flip phone, which was the pinnacle of technology in 1999, and dialed the number.  The door on the double parked car next to mine opens up and a large man slides out. 

“Oh good, I was hoping it would be you guys. You are my last boot of the night.” He said.

“Umm okay, cool man.  How do we get this thing off?” I asked sounding like a frightened 4 year old when in actuality I was a terrified 19 year old. 

“Oh, easy, I have the key.” He said. “But you have to pay me $250.”

“What? How much?” I ask as I see my checking account now settling comfortably in the red. 

“Is there anything you can do?”  I asked hoping that through my trembling voice the guy understood that I meant, hey would you take a bribe for less than $250?  That didn’t come through as he replied.

“I can wait here until you go to an ATM and get the $250.” 

I considered driving off with the boot on the car but the Simpsons taught me that it would be a bad idea. 

We returned and paid the man.  Eight seconds later the boot was off and we got into the car, me visibly shaken. 

Back down Queens Boulevard we went.  I don’t think I breathed the entire way.  I couldn’t find the turn for Steinway Street to get across Astoria.  We turned down 39^th and 37^th, going down one way streets the wrong way in an effort to make this living nightmare come to end.  Finally I decided, fuck it, I’ll go underneath the L and take 31^st street.

As we drove down heading towards 31^st street, I realized that I was in big trouble.  There was a concrete divider that wouldn’t let me make the right. What it would let me do is go straight over the 59^th street bridge and into Manhattan.  The two things that most drivers around here fear are driving on highways and driving in Manhattan.  My heart sounded like a death metal kick drum.  I was in a full fledged panic.  Deep breathes, I thought, deep breathes.  We pulled into the isle of Manhattan and I made three lefts and one right as quickly as humanly possible.  It was the world’s shortest foray into Manhattan. 

We got over the bridge and were able to make the turn on 31^st and cross over to Astoria.  I’ve never been more excited to park a car than I was on that day.  We parked outside of his house and I went inside and openly wept.