Last night we picked Kit up at La Guardia airport in Queens...it was totally close and we were early, zipping along the BQE like nobody's business. Kit climbed into the Yaris and we were off - back home to eat dumplings. Dave needs glasses and can't see anything at night, so I was behind the wheel, reluctantly, driving amongst veering cabs and huge conversion vans on the expressway. My teeny black car squeezed between rows of much faster, rustier vehicles. While Dave was calling the dumpling place, he looked down and then suddenly I was on the Triboro Bridge, cruising into the Bronx. Did you know that you have to pay 5 bucks to get into Manhattan even if you didn't even want to go there? Yeah.
So here we are...in the Bronx. The GPS voice is set to Kenneth...a nice man, I guess. I imagine him to be a well educated, salt and pepper, African-American guy sitting in my backseat. The problem is he keep saying "Turn left, turn left, now turn right, 300 yards ahead, turn right" and I haven't even moved yet. So I kinda hate Kenneth. I like maps. And knowing where I'm going. And not driving on New York highways.
So we end up at the new Yankee Stadium, which looks exactly like the old Yankee Stadium - still standing, right next door. Then we're in Harlem, then on the FDR, which runs along the east side of Manhattan - so I can see Brooklyn and I keep reaching my hand out the window expecting someone to grab hold and pull me over the river. Look, Kit, there's the Williamsburg Bridge and the Mahattan Bridge and somewhere in there is Times Square and (squint) the Empire State Building and over there in the distance is Staten Island and here (finally) is the Brooklyn Bridge. Over the bridge and onto dumplings.
