Friday, August 6, 2010

Oh New Haven, How I Love/Hate You...

In many ways, New Haven is a miniaturized version of Manhattan--or at least that's the image it tries to purvey. Certainly, it is not devoid of fine dining, yoga studios, and hair salons. Okay, maybe they don't have "Doga," but honestly, what is that? When I first heard the description, I pictured myself attending a class with a large breed dog--perhaps a weimaraner or doberman. I really explode into the giggles when I try to imagine getting this dog to sit still for an entire hour, or to try to set this less-than-dainty pup on my belly as I take wheel pose.

....I digress. a) I don't have a weimaraner or doberman. b) As I stated previously, New Haven doesn't have doga, so why am I even debating this?

Right, what I was saying. New Haven has most of the things that a cultured Manhattanite would want in life. We even have a wide selection of art galleries and museums, thanks to Yale. And like many cities, we also have these:

The street sweeper. That awkwardly large, annoyingly loud vehicle that attempts to rid the streets of their litter and grime. (Although my cynical side is inclined to think that the less-than-green New Havenites that live on my side of the tracks probably erase the progress of these trucks in circa 15 minutes). The street sweeper is like a non-fun version of a zamboni--especially because there are no drunken hockey fans present to celebrate its arrival. The other thing that is just lovely about the street sweeper is that it is accompanied by a local towing company, and will promptly remove your car if it is in the way.

If you read up until this point, you are probably correct to assume that I fell victim to the mean and vicious street sweeper/tower duo. It's never fun to start your day to suddenly realize you forgot to move your car, run down the stairs (barely having the time to put on pants--I mean, priorities, people!), only to find that yes, your car is gone.

This situation, at least in my book, was made more comical by the fact that my car still contains my old bedroom dresser, left over from my move. Good thing I gave away my microwave to a neighbor the week before. So, not only was my car MIA; so was the dresser that I adorned with stickers at age 6.

At the end of the day, the car and the dresser were still intact, and after a $77 towing fee and $50 ticket, it was all mine again.

I suppose this is the price I pay to finally be living in a city again after six years. Sure, I had my stint living in the New York City area, albeit on the wrong side of the Hudson (sorry New Jersey-ites, but it's just not the same). I will chalk it up as one of the many war wounds I will surely accumulate as I live here. In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy the pleasures of living in a city that is as rich in culture as it is in crime. That reminds me: I need to buy some Mace.

To be continued....

p.s. The parking sign above is not actually from my street. Ours, I believe, reads no parking every 1st and 3rd Thursday from 7am-3pm. Always a joy.

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