Flags were flying and fireworks were bursting.
It was the day before the Fourth and the worst day of the year to be on the road. Was not looking forward to the long, arduous drive on I-95 through NYC to DC. But I wanted to return home by the Fourth to watch the fighter jets pay homage to the patriotic crowds by the Lincoln Memorial.
Contrary to what Casey’s Movers had told me, the trailer would not be ready by mid-day. So I had time to kill and a thirst to quench. Across the street, a cute, pink cafe called Marylou’s caught my interest. Certainly they had Gucci, gourmet coffee there and hopefully strong wifi.
The cute, girly decor continued in the interior with pink walls, pink menus, and polka dot floors. This was the place to get your fix of Joe before a long, tiring drive. If you’re into specialty drinks such as the Funky Fanabla or the Minty Lou – named after the coffeeshop founder — then you’re in java heaven, for sure.
I was impressed with the selection from the menu and I met two cute baristas adorned in Patriots gear who were eager to pose for a 360 degree picture.
It wasn’t five minutes after I sat down when a manager approached me. She mentioned that she worked at corporate – this chain had over 40 locations in Massachusetts and Rhode Island and was expanding faster than you can say cappuccino.
“Why are you taking pictures?”
“For Google Street View Ma’am – I’m taking 360 degree shots of the interior.”
“I thought only Google did that.”
“No Ma’am, Google does most of the street view but rely on contributors like me to capture content of the interior.”
“Shouldn’t you call ahead before you come?”
Though that was a good practice, I normally don’t get the luxury to call. Heck I didn’t even know I was coming here until I found out that my load wasn’t ready so I started looking for a place to plug in my laptop and take a breather before my long journey. Google’s goal is to capture and provide Street View to all public places. Using the Google Street View App, Google informs us which restaurants, stores and coffee shops in close proximity, we should visit. So here I am. I can post the picture, but nothing is permanent. The picture is revokable and replaceable.
“So here’s the picture I took,” As I showed the manager the picture with the two young barristers smiling.
“If you like, I can send this link to Corporate for their feedback. If you don’t like the pic, you can delete it, or just contact me and I can take it down. Here’s my business card — and please feel free to contact me if you have any questions.”
I felt like a salesman, but really I wasn’t selling anything. I was just trying to check my email before I headed out.
The manager left with my card to call the front office. She returned within minutes – didn’t even have time to fire off a email.
“I spoke to management – we prefer if you would leave.”
“Certainly, I have a long drive ahead of me. When I get to DC, I’ll send a message to your marketing department.
“Thank you.”
I found her quite rude, but perhaps this is how people up north talk. Anyways I didn’t read too much into it.
I was glad my visit to Marylou’s was cut short – when I got back the load was ready and after a quick walk around and inspection, I was ready to face the brutal Boston holiday exodus to the beach and seashore.
The drive from Rockland, Mass wasn’t that bad except for a 10-mile stretch through Providence that turned into an idling parking lot. And when I got to New York, traffic once again came to a stand still. I-95 to the George Washington Bridge was bumper to bumper, and my knees couldn’t take it anymore.
I got off the first exit to escape from the GWB madness. Being a Washingtonian where the entire metro in the city is deeply submerged, I forgot that wasn’t the case for the outer boroughs of New York. In both the Bronx and Queens, the 115 year-old train tracks were built long before the invention of the tractor trailer. The poorly-designed elevated train tracks criss-cross all over the city with abandon and little warning.
As I approached the tracks, I was immediately faced with a critical juncture. There was no outlet ahead – I had to either turn left or right. And right turns are too sharp in this city.
To prep for my turn, I steered all the way right and waited till the very last moment before I cut to the left, making the widest turn I could muster. But I had 53 foot of trailer behind me and an enormous steel platform support structure was in the path of my turn. If I wasn’t careful, I would be wedged under the overpass blocking traffic in both directions or perhaps even striking the structure or knocking out power.
This wasn’t my trailer where I could afford a nick or scratch here or there. It belonged to Casey’s Movers and if it took any damage, I would be paying for it.
I stopped in the middle of the intersection, amongst honking and yelling and NYC drivers are notorious for their aggressive display of road rage. Despite my heightened stress, I wasn’t gonna rush this turn. I steered the truck back and forth until I cleared the last support by a hair’s breath. But I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Back in the 1800’s structural engineering was not nearly as strong as it is today. So engineers installed supports every 100 feet on both sides of the tracks. If you were lucky to clear the rear support from the driver’s side you may not be so lucky to clear the support ahead on the passenger side. This would be the thorn on my side.
I grimaced – was beginning to regret coming into the city. Maybe I should have stayed in Rockland and left the following morning. But that lady at Marylou’s gave me the signal.
And it was one decision that I nearly regretted but escaped cuz I cleared it by a tenth of a millimeter.
