Put Up a Parking Lot

Coming home from band practice on Monday night on the Southern State Parkway.   Eddie driving. Me looking at my iphone and tapping on it like an obsessive monkey.  The traffic comes to a halt.  And that is where it stayed.

Usually there is a halt, then inching, then more inching and then you see that someone in a really short skirt is standing by while her boyfriend is changing a tire and that was the whole mishegas.  But this night was different.  There was no movement, like a cadaver.   Finally some alpha car turns its engine off and eventually we all do.  People get out of their cars to "see what they can see" and it looks like the setting of a sci-fi film. 

I step out and look around. I see nothing but more and more cars all dark like we are in the Hollywood Bowl stacked parking.  I call Jeff.  We chat. He is in a comfy bed in a hotel in Chicago. I am standing indefintely on the Soithern State Parkway about to write a ballad about the whole thing.

Eddie is in the car talking to his girlfriend.  When he gets off the phone I decide we need a photo so I can immediately Facebook it as if sending out a Bat Signal to be rescued as this incident has been totally ignored on the traffic report on the radio and we are in something with the dimensions of true carnage. 

 Why we are smiling I do not know. 

Finally the police have everyone REVERSE on the parkway and drive down all the wrong ways and wrong entrances and we get back to dry land. 

But now my 7 train is closed. Eddie drives me around like we are in the film AFTER HOURS and nothing.  The poor guy who has to get up and teach early in the morning finally just drives me all the way home to Manhattan. 

I get to bed at 1:30am.