So, with trepidation, and a little hope, we set out from the gas station. And within about fifteen minutes, ended up with the lights coming back on. Having had enough of this, and already having checked the manual and found precious little information about these lights other than--they indicate engine problems and can shut the engine down if the problem is severe enough--I decided to call Levitt and let her know what was going on and see if she had anything useful she could impart to us. It turns out she did. According to her, after these trucks undergo their scheduled maintenance, these warning lights have a tendency to go a little wonky and light up even though there's nothing wrong. Reassured, we continued on without paying too much attention to the lights. I bought into what Levitt told me because I could believe that maintenance could reset certain systems and bring the parameters into more strict lines. And the manual told me that the protect engine system would slow the engine down and ultimately shut it down, and neither of those things were happening. Nor were any of the problems listed that could cause these lights to come on present. So I felt reasonably secure that all was as Levitt had described. Someday I'll stop making that mistake. As we were exiting one expressway to get onto another, the truck died with no warning. On the exit ramp. In the middle of traffic. That caused Flo not only consternation, but brief moments of panic. Thankfully, I had also read in the manual that it could be overridden by turning the truck off and restarting it from scratch. We did, and immediately pulled of the road into a gas station's parking lot to let the truck rest, hoping that would miraculously heal it. (I told you I know jack shit about trucks) When we returned to the truck, i took over, since Flo had been through enough, and we were approaching Brooklyn, and I had promised her that I would drive the truck through Brooklyn. Yep, that's how nice a guy I am. Remember this, gentle readers, when someone in the future tries to impugn my character. So we take off, and sure enough, after a while, the lights come back on, but the engine continues to run, and the lights disappear. I am able to keep their appearances to a minimum the rest of the trip by keeping the truck's speed between 45 and 65. I don't know why that happened, I merely report that it did. The lights still came on, just not as often. And then we were in Brooklyn itself, just a few miles from our destination, and I began to think that maybe, just maybe, we could get there without anymore problems.
One of these days I'll stop thinking things like that. New York apparently knows I hate it and the feeling is mutual. So as we were traveling into the city of Brooklyn, I ended up having the truck die on me three separate times. THREE! Within about as many miles. At red lights. I have no idea why, just that it happened, and that i was ready to kill. Add to that the fact the streets in Brooklyn are stupid skinny and even when they're not people in Brooklyn feel that double parking is a right AND a privilege, and you can imagine the attitude I had toward everyone involved in creating the borough of Brooklyn. Thankfully, we were able to make it to our destination--the venue we'll be performing at tomorrow. They're very kindly letting us park the truck there since there's no chance in hell of parking it anywhere in the city. Schneider and Levitt came to pick us up in the van and I informed them of what had happened. We need to have the truck looked at since we have major driving to do this week and next. We have a short drive tomorrow from Brooklyn to Tarrytown, so I think if Levitt took the truck in before we headed out and let the van head up to our destination, we could have the whole thing dealt with before we travel to Albany and thence to Milwaukee. And I'll tell you, they HAVE to get it looked at before I put my ass back into it to drive 700 miles. Add to that the fact the hotel was making it hard for us to check in and it briefly appeared that we weren't going to be able to get more than one room for awhile, and I was ready to write the entire city of New York off for the rest of my life.
Well, I have to say, I don't hate NY quite as much anymore. I met my ex, Cyrilla (sorry, no alias for you) in the Village for dinner and venting about both our careers, and I experienced a lovely diner called the Washington Square Diner, and I was shown not only the best place for gelato (Cones--I have never had ginger gelato before, but I have to say, what these guys have is worth trying) I also was led, thanks to Flo, to a kick ass coffee shop named Café Reggio (Very artsy, very NY) which had excellent coffee and horrendous service and an Italian Pastry shop (Thanks, Flo!) with to die for cannoli. It was actually quite cool to walk around the village and other parts of Manhattan instead of driving through them. The only other times I've been to NY I have either been driving large vehicles, working, or stuck int he incredibly overdone touristy parts of the city, all of which make me cringe. This was seeing the city from a local's point of view, so it was a) a lot more relaxing since I had no deadlines or stress and b) a lot less crowded and annoying. So I have to admit, while I probably would not give up Chicago for NY unless I got a sweet gig out there, I no longer hate the city just on principle. I still hate driving through it, but the city itself, at least the Village, is a lot cooler than I originally thought. Though I must admit, the garbage all over the street is still icky. And the guy peeing in the trash can also is a turnoff. Sorry, NY, just sayin'.....
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