(see Part 1 here)

Driving back into Manhattan at night, a friend and I decided to drop into a local cafe on 8th Street, just a half block from my parking garage. However, it was cold, the street was virtually empty, and parking was legal – it was after 10 PM and one no longer even had to pay for metered parking. So, why not park right in front and drop the car at the garage later?

I examined and reviewed the signs. The upper sign, Special Night Regulation, made no impression. Unlike the white backgrounds typically used for signs (in the two center signs in Part 1), this one was like a graphic black hole – the sign used white type on a dark red and black background.

I ignored it because parking does not become more restrictive after becoming less restrictive. So I was looking at the white sign showing the end of metered parking. If you can park legally from 8AM to 10PM (using the Muni-Meter), and after 10PM for free, why would you suddenly be unable to park or stand one hour later, starting at 11PM? You see the logic? This is New York City parking 101.

So, at 11:29PM, as I exited Gizzi’s Cafe, I was greeted with a traffic police officer just completing my parking ticket for $115. Perfect timing – he did not need to place the ticket under the windshield wiper, just hand it to me for the added personal touch. I was LIVID.

With disgust, I grabbed the ticket and threw it in my back seat. I told the officer how I was furious and that I have lived in the neighborhood for over 40 years and never heard of such a night regulation. He responded that if I lived there so long, I should know of the regulation. Point well made.

Best I reign it in and quit talking, so I left. However, I DO know the neighborhood and its parking regulations. I just do not street park much nowadays, and apparently, the night regulation is relatively new. I learned from a neighbor that this added regulation was acquired by the Village Alliance to minimize late-night carousing by visitors, who often park on the street and make a ruckus until late hours, disturbing residents.

Coincidentally, this neighbor has also worked for me. She is a long-time graphic artist and agreed that these night regulation signs virtually become invisible, owing to their graphic design. Many leave their cars after 11PM and are ticketed, expecting that parking is permitted after meter usage is no longer required.

When I got home, I was still fuming. It took a full two hours to calm down. You can buy a very nice Blu-Ray DVD player for $115. Money well spent is one thing, but nothing infuriates many a New Yorker like a parking ticket. These extremely high fines are mostly revenue enhancers for the city of New York, which now collects nearly a billion dollars annually from parking tickets.

I plotted and schemed of how I could beat this ticket, which I read front and back. I read online. I went back to examine the group of stacked signs. I did notice that on this pole, the Night Regulation sign is the only one that does not display “Department of Transportation.”

As I calmed down and my thinking became more mature, I began to accept that I would likely have to pay the ticket and just see it as an expensive lesson learned. Then it occurred to me that I could do a story about the incident and get something for my $115. Better yet, I thought, I will write a two-part story and amortize my expense over two parts. A bit childish, and really a rather elaborate way to justify a mistake made. But it was the best lemonade I could squeeze from the lemon handed to me on December 10, 2011 at 11:29 PM, and each cup was going to cost a hefty $57.50 🙂

Related Posts:  I’ll Kill You, The Agony and the Ecstasy, Nice Move, Kid, Eternal Vigilance and Tenacity, Pull Ahead, Great Minds and Fools, Itching and…

I need to brag just a little so that you fully understand the impact of an episode which occurred on December 10, 2011.

I drove a taxi for about one and a half years and have owned a car in NYC for most of my life. I understand New York City parking regulations and signs. I have street parked for years. I interpret signs and help others understand them whenever possible. I even did a story on the logic of parking regulations and signage.

And, most importantly, I DON’T GET PARKING TICKETS (the only parking ticket I recall receiving was over 30 years ago). I rarely stand in No Standing or stop in No Stopping zones. I check parking signs religiously and read and reread them if necessary. With the exception of momentary loading or unloading (while double parking), I never leave my car illegally parked and unattended for more than a moment.

I park within 12 inches of the curb. I never park within 15 feet of a fire hydrant or in front of a driveway. And I garage my car, so my street parking within New York City is limited. I use the vehicle primarily for excursions to the outer boroughs or out of the city entirely.

I was LIVID on Saturday night. I was FUMING. I had thoughts of RETALIATION against the New York City Department of Transportation. Of course, I was being childish, indignant, and self-righteous – LIKE ANYONE WHO GETS CAUGHT. It took me a couple hours to calm down, and only because I started to formulate a plan and a way to make use of the experience for this website. I am a Lemonade Maker, and in Part 2, I will tell you why the cost of today’s lemonade will most likely be $57.50…

Related Posts: I’ll Kill You, Nice Move, Kid, Eternal Vigilance and Tenacity, Great Minds and Fools, Itching and…

Children soon learn the power of words, even if they do not know the full meaning. Take the ever popular “I’ll Kill You.” Adults often dispense with the words and just perform the act. Particularly when angry. And nothing enrages a New Yorker more than a breech of certain types of urban etiquette, particularly street parking etiquette. And yes, there is such a thing.

Many non-residents of New York City imagine this metropolis to be a lawless land with no rules. Not at all. If you doubt my words, try taking a parking spot deemed to be someone else’s. There is a protocol here, but I can’t tell you exactly what it is.
I street parked for years, and one of the best techniques, rather than cruising, is to stake out part of a block and WAIT. Cruising for a spot in a crowded neighborhood is very tricky. First, as you cruise, you will be encountering others who have staked out territory. And you will also have to be exactly where someone is leaving – empty spots are snagged immediately. In today’s photo, I had only stepped into my car when someone pulled up and double parked ahead of me in anticipation of my leaving. Waiting for what, in this city, is like a nugget of gold to the panner: the parking spot.

Of course, the waiting and staking out territory strategy has its problems, too. It is a generally accepted practice to stake out a portion of a block, lay claim to it and wait. If someone pulls out, it’s yours and yours only. However, there are many instances where someone unaware of you or of the protocol will just pull into a spot within your turf. A confrontation will typically ensue, with the offending party backing off, apologizing, and leaving.

A piggish thief may snag the spot and refuse to back off. However, if the thief has not executed his parking quickly and properly, such as pulling in front first, he is subject to the offended party pulling up quickly and blocking the thief from completing his parking, resulting in a stand off. This precise scenario was the subject of a Seinfeld episode, The Parking Space.

But there is a simpler solution for a victim in this predicament. Many years ago, I read an article in the Village Voice about exactly this scenario. Someone snatched a parking spot before a man who had been staking out the block could get to it. He pulled up to the thief, rolled down his window, pulled out a gun and shot and murdered him.* An enraged adult needs not to waste any time with “I’ll Kill You.”

*This is not an isolated incident. There have been numerous assaults and other fatalities involving fights over parking spaces.

Related Posts: The Agony and the Ecstasy, Shortly Before Execution, Pull Ahead, Great Minds and Fools, Get a Life, Itching and…, Who See the Red?

The best things about having driven a taxi in New York City are 1) street cred and 2) the stories. The stories, because if you drive long enough in a big city and pick up an average of 30 passengers per work shift, eventually you will have experiences worth telling. Such is the fodder that prompted the award winning HBO TV documentary series, Taxicab Confessions, which originated in New York City.

As regular readers here already know, I did a stint of about one and a half years as a taxi driver in the early 1970s, a very rough time in the city. Picking up the severely drunk passengers was one big problematic scenario. It can have entertainment value, but most likely, the ugly side of drunkenness will reveal its head sooner or later – typically not later than the end of the ride.
Often friends will stuff a drunk friend in a taxi, thereby transferring responsibility and care taking to a taxi diver, with a sigh of relief, I am sure.

As one reader pointed out in my story, Flailing and Hailing, there are downsides to taxi travel outside Manhattan. A rider should know how to get to their destination. Many drivers are severely deficient in their knowledge of the boroughs, don’t carry maps or use GPS. Taxis are expensive and you don’t want a driver to be learning NYC geography at your expense.

However, there is risk to the driver too. Although the passenger is paying for distance traveled, the most money is not made by wandering aimlessly in hopes that the passenger will at last remember how to get home or where they live. More money is earned in a given time period by getting passengers to their destination as quickly as possible, not crawling around unknown neighborhoods.

On one night, I picked up a passenger who was visibly inebriated. He did not have an address, but assured me that he could navigate to his home. As we approached the first fork in a roadway and I asked “left or right?”, he responded “follow the crowd.” This became the refrain at every juncture, where conveniently it appeared that our destination was in the direction of the greater traffic flow.

Until there was no crowd.

I realized I was in trouble when at one junction with no cars in front of us, I was again told to follow the crowd. This was time to turn around completely and interrogate. Did he or did he not know where he was going? I was in the middle of nowhere, no people around, no clear address, and only his assurance that he could direct me to his home.

I don’t recall where I left him, only that I ordered him out of my taxi right there, which took some doing. At this point in my life, I would do more. Perhaps drive to a populated area and look for a police car or ask for a police station to drop him off. But I was young, intolerant, frustrated and broke. Time is money for the taxi driver. You need to know where you are going, not heed the directions of a drunk man whose directions consist solely of “follow the crowd.” 🙂

Related Posts: Leave the Driving to Us, Nice Move, Kid, The Point of Impact, Flailing and Hailing, Sittin’ on Top of the World, What numba Kissena?

There are a number of ways to approach driving a car in New York City. If you bring ideas of expediency and reliable travel times to the table, you are in for a very stressful time. Compulsive lane changing to gain small advantages, agonizing over every sanitation truck working ahead of you, screeching and lurching to maximize speed only to get to a traffic light earlier – all these things will just eat at your soul.

There are ways, times, and routes to minimize trip time, of course. However, one must always be prepared for one or even an unending series of traffic snarls, mishaps and poor choices which you could not have foreseen. These things are not incidents, they are a way of life. For those inclined to eastern disciplines, learning to live with New York City traffic and not get ruffled is one of most difficult forms of moving meditation and ultimate exercises in letting go.

I have owned a car for most of the 42 years I have lived in New York City, and I am not daunted by city traffic or driving. But if you value your time and your mind, the subway is the way to travel in New York City. The train traveler generally avoids the slings and arrows of outrageous traffic. There are subway delays, reroutings, dropped service, etc., but generally this will be the best way to travel the city.

However, sometimes you just don’t feel like traveling underground, particularly on beautiful days like we have had lately, when it seems like a crime to descend to the subterranean depths. You have no car or access to one, and you do not want to break the bank taking a taxi. If you have the time, for destinations in a straight line within one borough (crosstown bus connections are free but add even more time to an already slow journey) and during daylight or evening hours, you can’t beat a bus. Here, as in auto travel, your skills in letting go will also be tested – buses deal with the same traffic issues as cars and make stops every couple blocks, making what for many will feel like an interminable journey.

There are many reasons people opt for buses in New York City including safety and no need to climb stairs. But my biggest plus is the tremendous sightseeing for the cost of bus fare. There is probably no better bus ride in New York City than a trip down Fifth Avenue, any time of year.

I recently embarked at 80th Street heading downtown to the Village. North of 59th Street, on the left side, you are treated to the world of privilege with some of the world’s finest apartment buildings and museums. On the right side, Fifth Avenue flanks Central Park. At 59th Street, we have the Sherry Netherland, the Plaza Hotel, the distinctive glass cube of the Apple store and the start of an endless parade of flagship shops of some of the world’s finest retailers. At 50th Street, we have St. Patrick’s Cathedral (see here and here) and Rockefeller Center. Later, we pass the Empire State Building, Madison Square Park, the Met Life Tower, and the Flatiron and New York Life Insurance Buildings. Evening is a great time to travel as the lights begin to glimmer and glow.

Carry the spirit of the traveler or explorer who knows there will be obstacles, hurdles and other unexpected difficulties, but has no time table or tight schedules. If we meet and I have my car, I’ll take you for a ride. Otherwise, jump on the bus and in either case, relax, let go and leave the driving to us 🙂

Related Posts: A Bottle of Schweppes, Cello Class, Ice Skating in October, 23 Skidoo, Saks Fifth Avenue, Apple and Sherry

Other Driving Related Posts: Nice Move, Kid, The Point of Impact, Flailing and Hailing, Sittin’ on Top of the World, What numba Kissena?

I was sweating bullets. It was the road test for my driver’s license, I was 16, and this was the major right of passage into a future of independence and adulthood. There were the responsibilities of driving a motor vehicle with the inherent risks of bodily harm to oneself and others, but most important to a teenager, you now had wheels. And that meant a new found freedom. As long as you had access to a vehicle, of course.

A road test at that time in the suburbs was remarkably simple, virtually a formality. The expectation was that one would pass unless otherwise proven incompetent. My test consisted of driving a couple roads, a simple turn, and parking in a wide open lot on return.

However, this still was a major event, and it would be a tragedy to fail. When my examiner asked for a simple right turn, I drove over the curb. His response is engraved in my mind, and I sometimes still hear it to this day: “Nice move, kid.”
He might as well have said, “Step out, you’re finished.” The rest of the very short road test was trying to live through the embarrassment and humiliation. Upon my return to Motor Vehicles, my instructor told me to go inside the office. He left without saying whether I had passed or failed. I assumed someone inside would be the harbinger of bad news. At the counter, I asked if I had failed. The clerk appeared perplexed and said that she was only told to process my license. Apparently examiners allowed for extreme nervousness.

Fortunately, parallel parking was not part of the exam. This is a skill that many living outside a city never learn or need to. I have watched many visitors to New York City try to parallel park in a very roomy spot, yet leave in frustration after repeated failed attempts to get in.

On a recent journey to Brooklyn, I had great difficulty finding a parking spot. The only thing available within blocks of my destination was a spot so tight that there was only an inch or two of additional space over the length of my car. But duty called. In these tight spots, the first cut you make steering is critical. The rest is finessing mixed with tedium. In a parking space this tight, gentle bumping the other vehicles with every move forward and back is required. Regardless of how gentle you are, best the owners of the neighboring cars are not there to witness this process.

More extreme circumstances arise where no spot large enough can be found. Can you park in a spot shorter than your vehicle? Yes. I have seen large heavy cars park in spaces like this by pushing and moving cars in front and in back with each iteration as they wedged themselves in.

A honed skill at parallel parking brings street cred and bespeaks of a seasoned New Yorker. Get it right with a perfect first cut, a minimum of jockeying, and leaving your car within inches of the curb, and perhaps you will hear from an observer what I once did, but without the sarcasm – “Nice Move, Kid.” 🙂

The Story of Driss Aqil

There should be a sign at every tunnel or bridge approaching New York City, at every NYC airport, bus, and train station, and on the door of every New York City taxicab, which boldly proclaims:
Abandon All Preconceived Notions Ye Who Enter Here.

If you are unwilling to heed this admonition, be prepared to have all your stereotypes, biases, racial or ethnic profiling, and distinctions made by class or job seriously challenged.
Of course, generalities do generally apply. Typically, you don’t find an adjunct professor of Mathematics and Ph.D candidate driving a taxi. But I said typically, not a very useful word in New York City.

I rarely take taxis these days unless I have to transport heavy objects or loads, which was the case on Thursday, October 14th. I often strike up conversation with drivers, and this driver seemed particularly astute. There was attention and intention when he listened to my destination address. I had the sense that his whole demeanor was saying – Ok, I know where you are going and the best way to get you there. Like an expert surgeon performing a routine task, lie back and leave the cutting to me. We cut through traffic as we conversed.

I became engrossed with the details of his life and accomplishments in the United States of this Moroccan immigrant. We were both excited to meet – he commented he had more conversation with me in a few short minutes than he had in the last 10 years. However the taxi ride was very short, so we agreed that he would follow up with the details of his life by email – he wrote his name, Driss Aqil, and email address clearly on a receipt.

I was very disappointed when my first email to him was bounced back. A number of friends examined his name and concluded that I misread the q as g in Aqil. However, although the following emails were not bounced, they were not answered either. Until last night. They had gone into his spam box. He answered the questions I had outlined. Here are some bullet points of the bio Driss emailed me:

Born in Fquih Ben Salah a small town situated about 3 hours from Casablanca. Worked in Morocco in oil drilling and exploration for about 8 years. Came to the USA in 1989. Lived in the YMCA on 34 street in Manhattan for a few weeks. Worked at LTR Jeans as a stock boy, became warehouse manager and store manager shortly after.

Moved to Bay Ridge (Brooklyn), Astoria (Queens), and finally moved to Bensonhurst when married.
Drove a a New York City taxi since 1996 till now.
Education in USA: – Associate in computer Sciences( Honors) Phi Theta Kappa, NYCCT, CUNY. Bachelor in financial applied mathematics. Magna Cum Laude, Tau Sigma Honors NYCCT,CUNY. Masters in Applied Mathematics, Queens College, CUNY. Post- Baccalaureate program from Queens College, certified as secondary school mathematics teacher. Currently an adjunct professor of mathematics.

Of course, there were tales of various celebrities Driss picked up and other stories while driving a taxi. He also had two articles published in the inaugural issue of City Tech Writer: A Thought on “The Struggle for Existence from the Point of View of the Mathematicians” and The Anchor Effect Discussed in A “Mathematician Plays the Stock Market”

And finally, Driss says in his email:

“Driving a Taxi allowed me to accomplish my studies. My goal is to get my PHD in mathematics in the near future, write a book about my experiences in driving the taxi in NYC.”

Another installment in New York City’s live drama, Abandon All Preconceived Notions Ye Who Enter Here 🙂