It was going to be a great morning. For once, I was on schedule: a full cup of coffee down the hatch, three plastic bags in my jacket (just in case), kennel preloaded with toys and out the door in time to get around the block with the hound and still catch the 8:15 22A.

And then, I recognized the lightness of pocket that is keylessness.

It has been a while since I’ve felt that sensation. (Before the summer 2000 incident is mentioned, let me note that that was a key card situation, not a key situation. And I had no pockets.)

This time, after a fruitless trip to the management office, dog in tow, and 20 minutes loitering by the front door hoping a neighbor would emerge. But even when one did, my rusty lock-carding skills failed against the door to the apartment.

Much to Belby’s confusion, we returned, defeated, to the back yard. I pried loose the screen over the bathroom shower window, draped my jacket over the still-wet sill, and boosted myself over the patio steps, through the window and head-first into the bathtub.

Everyone survived, unscathed, even my nice-ish pants. (One large spider was dislodged from the screen track.) Belbs got another hour of freedom. The only one to suffer was Melissa, after I took the bus to her school and swiped our car from the parking lot to make up lost time.

Meanwhile, recent events: Visits from the de Castriques, the Thomsons, and Scott and Mark. AND: Happy birthdays to my grandmother (the 13th), dad (the 19th) and sister in law (the 25th).

That makes sense: It was personal use, not commercial. But, in my (uneducated) reading of the code, it seemed that trucks of that size (double-axle or two-axles with six wheels) were considered “trucks” regardless of intent. More details later, and commentary on how glad I am that I didn’t check the “guilty” box and mail in a check.

(Side note: turns out the first-time fine is $200 + $80, not $40 + $60. This I learned because the case ahead of mine was also an off-route truck, same location, same officer (different truck: commercial). The points are still unclear; his license was already suspended. By the third offense? $1,000 to $2,000.)

The central nugget of my defense, as I see it, is that while I was driving a (small) double-axle rental truck off-route, I did not mean to be, and was not as familiar with the area as I should have been. However, I had not intended to be on 110^th at all. My original objective, as I had done a year earlier during our initial move, was to cross at the 79^th Street crossover. But when I approached the turn, I saw that the clearance on the bridges was either a touch too low for this truck, or may have been too close to the truck’s height for my amateur comfort.

Maps and a lot more wordiness and whining after the jump.

I can call witnesses, and I can question the ticketing officer. (I don’t really have questions for him; he was relatively helpful despite landing a ticket on me.) I may ask him what type of truck driver they encounter cutting that particular stretch (110^th, on top of the park): professional truckers flagrantly violating the requirement to cut a corner, or apartment-hopping bozos like me. Of particular note: another large truck (much larger than the one I was driving) was pulled over by the officer’s partner moments after we got pulled. And then a third large truck drove past, but there were no more officers to pull it over.

So clearly there is a need for enforcement, and for a stiff penalty. But I am not a repeat offender, and I have no intention of repeating this offense. Not to say I can’t operate a moving truck safely, but I am really more of a Corsica / Camry driver. And the closest I’ve come to a CDL is the one Melissa used to have in her wallet.

I’ve been reviewing the definitions to make sure I was driving a “truck”; it appears that I was. (It had two axles, on which were mounted six wheels, thus meeting the definition) And you can see from the map that I was off-route, just barely. But I was trying to get to my local destination by the shortest route possible, before I was thwarted by the park bridges.

In regards to Dad’s remark, perhaps I should have prepared to call a rental agent to the stand. Seriously. But I could look into their obligations to inform me—as a non-commercial user—of the byzantine* truck routing system in the city. And that I needed to be on it. It wouldn’t have been terrible if the agent were to say, “You know, this thing has to be on a truck route, and here’s a city-provided truck route map!” I imagine that in the long form that I signed regarding liability, etc., there was tucked a statement about being familiar with laws applicable to that class of truck. But still.

If I come up with any more documentation, I’ll put it up here. In the meantime, I’m open to suggestions! Court time is 10:30 on the morrow. Also, if a certain witness would come forward, perhaps with a PDFed, signed statement regarding the circumstances and happenings, I’ll check into witness protection for your safety.

*The city’s drivers’ site actually says: “With nearly 1,000 miles of designated roadway, New York City has one of the most complex truck route systems in the nation.”

In New York, I’d been using a barber on 80^th, just off 2^nd Avenue. He was perfectly fine, rarely busy, and at the price point I found appropriate for the work required: about $18, including tip. But a few days ago I noticed a traditional spinning barber pole a block and a half from our apartment.

There was no wait when I stepped in at 1:30. I checked my wallet for the requisite $14 (plus gratuity, which I was not yet able to calculate). Finding said wallet empty, I started for the ATM, but the male proprietor (there was also a woman, presumably to handle the rest of the “unisex” customers) told me it would be fine to go after. I sat for the cut, and found my experience to be similar—or possibly superior—to that at the 80^th Street shop. (This shop, to be clear, is on 81^st, between York and 1^st, but closer to York on the south side of the street.)

• Pro: The new barber’s breath was pleasant, relative to the other. This is important, as barbers spend a lot of time breathing on you.
• Con: The TV next to the chair was off. Boring. I liked watching the TV rather than myself.
• Pro: The TV next to the chair was off. So the barber wasn’t watching it too.
• Neutral: He was fast. So is the other guy.
• Neutral: Minimal or no waiting. I suppose some might infer here that no one else goes to the barbers I go to. That may well be the case, but again, my reasoning for not cutting my own hair is based solely on laziness.
• Neutral: Rather than gently moving my head as needed, he preferred instead to use little slaps. This made the experience seem a little manlier.
• Con: Unlike the other guy, the new barber didn’t have a belted-on, hand-held head massaging appliance, a device reminiscent of a tiny floor sander.
• Pro: Actually, never mind the previous con. That thing hurts a little and probably smoothes the brain.
• Con: The new guy didn’t use the straight razor for the back of the neck.

I was at my desk just in time to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, complete with little hair particles, before I had to get back to work.

Longer post(s) tomorrow!

This photo was taken moments before we set out in the direction of Manhattan across the Brooklyn Bridge. And moments before the downpour began.

UPDATE: Here’s a gallery from their visit.

There aren’t many pictures of local sidewalk decoration I’m willing to publish.