Photo by myself, in Bryant Park.
A shoeless fellow napped while witting on a cafe chair, in Bryant Park. It must have been perfect napping weather.
This photo is from the stash. Bryant Park is the ideal place to nap, under the cover of tall trees. In the background is the carousel, which runs pretty much all year.
One of my first tasks was to wake up early this morning to move the car. Oy. Mark traded our Mini Cooper, Clive, in for a car that I can actually drive. That means I must share in the parking duties.
New York conducts street cleaning, which means a zamboni-like thing crawls along the streets with big brushes to move debris, which means that every few days, you must move your car.
In Manhattan, each side of the street gets cleaned twice a week. In Brooklyn, only once a week. So your car cannot be parked along certain sides of the street on certain days, else you get a ticket. Often, people leave their cars on the street and get tickets because it's cheaper than putting the car in the garage.
Before going to LA, I parked the car on a Tuesday side. That meant finding another spot before 8:30 am today. I stumbled out with very little sleep to find a parking space. Dangerous. Excruciating. But I somehow found a spot, and managed to park without damaging anything.
Only on certain holidays or during heavy snowfall, is this practice suspended. I'm sure there were more than a few Seinfeld episodes about parking? I remember either George or Jerry sitting in a car, ranting. That's exactly what it's like.
Related posts: Crossing Broadway, on Wheels, On Wheels, in the Financial District, and On Skateboard Graphics and Subways in Mid-Air.