Parking Space

The East Village, 1st Avenue near E.10th Street

A woman is attempting to parallel park her SUV on 1st Avenue. Amused diners seated outside at an Italian restaurant watch as the woman repeatedly rocks her vehicle back and forth into the spot. It's about her 6th or 7th cut as I'm walking by, and I notice that she is conducting this exercise with only one hand on the wheel, as she has a cell phone pressed to her ear with the other hand.

Her hair is flipping around her face as she whirls her head back and forth checking her mirrors, chatting on her cell animatedly, while her driving hand darts back and forth between the steering wheel and the gearshift. Finally satisfied with being almost mostly in the space, she turns the vehicle off. But when she takes her foot off the brake, her vehicle burps forward and delivers a resounding thump to the car in front, triggering that car's alarm.

The bumped car's apparent owner happens to be seated outside the Italian restaurant. He stands up and silences the alarm with a sharp, annoyed gesture. He remains standing, expectant. We all wait for the woman to exit her SUV, presumably embarrassed, presumably contrite, but instead she flounces down from the cab, checks her hair in her side mirror for a second, and without a glance towards her audience, moves briskly down the sidewalk towards St. Mark's Place.

Not three seconds pass before the bumped man shouts after her, "Hey, you dumb broad! You're ALREADY driving while FEMALE, you shouldn't make things WORSE by talking on the phone too!"

The woman doesn't turn around, but we can all hear her. "Sit down and eat yer fuckin' meatballs!"

Sometimes, I love New York City.

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