Alternate Street Parking (and other husbandly duties)

Since the hubs is gone for 2+ weeks all of his “chores” have fallen upon me.  Not that we have a list saying, “You do this and I do that” but it’s just sort of implied.

Like, he takes out the garbage, lets the dog out for his midnight bathroom break and makes the coffee and then leaves the grinds for me to dispose of.

And I dispose of the grinds and clean the French Press EVERY DAY even though I don’t drink the coffee, walk the dog ten million times and tend to the general upkeep of the apartment.

The one “chore” that the hubs does that I will be oh so glad to relinquish is parking the car.  Street parking is few and far between here, and with my beginner parallel parking skills it is something that I dread.  Like weeks before he went on this trip I started dreading the parking.  Like I parked the car on Friday and didn’t touch it all weekend even though I wanted to run errands requiring it, just so it could stay in that parking spot for Monday.

I mean, dreading it.

How street parking works in New York is that every day one side of the streets are swept.  No cars are allowed to park on that side of the street between the hours listed on the signs, which happens to be 8:30-10 am in our neighborhood.  Every day you have to move the car from one side of the street to the next, to avoid ticketing.

I thought I was being smart, and I would get outside at 10 am and move the car, having free range of the entire street.  But Monday morning at 9:40 am I happened to glance outside the window and the Tuesday side of the street was completely packed.  I take a closer look and see everyone sitting in their cars, waiting until 10 am, as to avoid any possible ticketing.

Are you kidding me?  Do these people seriously not have jobs??  Who can wait for twenty minutes in the middle of the day, every day, just for a parking spot?

So of course I grab the keys and dash outside, and there’s one spot left.  One very tiny spot.  I try to squeeze the car into it and my beginner parking skills are no use at all.  A man standing on the side of the street comes over to the car and I roll down the window and he says, “Let me park it for you.”

I contemplate this for a minute.  He doesn’t look like a car thief.  What exactly does a car thief look like?  Finally I decide no, and he directs me into the spot, where I wait until 10 am.

Luckily I’m heading out of town for a few days so I won’t have to worry about alternate sides.

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