Tuesday, September 15, 2009

falling down

last night wasn't so much with the good.

i've come to the conclusion that there really isn't a "good time" to find parking on this rock.

and last night was no exception.

the bastard has been conducting a little experiment that has been borne out of one part scheduling issues and one part laziness and i've been parking around the neighborhood. and last night wasn't good at all.

there was more traffic than usual. then again, more traffic IS the usual. one should really celebrate the anomaly and not the norm and in this case traffic in manhattan is NO anomaly.

and there was this brief period of time in which i felt i was having one of those falling down moments in the car.

a combination sense of impotence and rage that had me thinking that the best course of action would be to

step out of the car,

set it on fire,

walk away.

right there in three easy steps.

it seemed so easy.

except for the lack of a means to set the car on fire.

and the sheer lack of will.

and the fact that by the time i gave up on it, i found a spot.

this seems to work somehow. the bastard gives up and miraculously a spot appears. it's sort of like playing reverse psychology with the fates.

"ok fates, i give up!"

"we're done, you and i!"

"i'm going down to the east river to dump this little hatchback into the drink and fuck you!"

"oh there's a spot!"

and i park and for a second, the sickness in my gut subsides. hell, as a bonus, i was parked by a church and they were having choir practice.

heh, "hell. nice choice of words", i suddenly think to myself, breaking the fourth wall.

anyway, i stopped and stood and listened to some very talented people sings a song of faith. faith that i've lost a long time ago. it was beautiful and uplifting and for a minute, it carried me home.

only when i got home, there was a parking spot right there mocking me. and i was falling down again. only in new york i suppose.

so if you see my car, can you do me a favor and set the fucking thing on fire please? it might make everything alright.

—the bastard

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