We took the long way back to my place so she could tell me a few more sad stories.  I could not shake the feeling that all the people I have met, in some fundamental way, are mad.  They pay mortgages, raise children, possess professional expertise, make all kinds of choices, live complex lives, but there is an element of madness to all of it, it seemed to me.  The thought struck me as slightly mad too, made me wonder if it wasn’t me.  The evidence that it wasn’t just me seemed strong, but then again, isn’t that what every delusional person believes?

There was a spot across from my place, and she double parked in front of it, shutting off the engine.  We were exchanging somewhat sorrowful anecdotes as we sat and one led to the next.  At one point she turned the radio down, and I didn’t think about it until later.   After a while a car pulled up next to us and asked about the spot we were blocking.  She turned the key to move the car, cranked, a weak cough, then nothing.

“But I don’t understand,” she said, not understanding.  “The lights go on.”  She flashed the headlights.

The driver in the other car said “put it in neutral” after she told him she had jumper cables in the back.  Her car slid back a few feet once she took the parking brake off.  

“What’s he doing?” she asked, as he did a three point turn so his battery would face her’s.  

The jumper cables sparked as she went “yow” and I pointed out that I shouldn’t let the claws on the other end of the cables touch after I’d connected the jumpers to her battery.  They sparked again, then I attached them to the red and black terminals in the other guy’s car.

A black SUV conducted a neat maneuver and began sliding into the guy’s spot.  There was a quick exchange in Spanish, my friend dashed around to calm things down, the driver of the first car yelling “he doesn’t have to come at me like he’s going to kill me” and my friend pointing out that this is New York City and parking is a rough business.  To my surprise he seemed satisfied with her statement and drove off. 

She turned the key and her engine roared to life.  I disconnected the cables.  Just them a white Humvee looking like a warship came from the wrong direction and wanted the spot.  The passenger came toward us menacingly, looking like the bad cop Denzel Washington won the award for playing in Training Day.  “It’s illegal to hold a spot in NYC,” he informed us.   He reached into the collar of his sweater and pulled on a length of chain.  “I’m a cop,” he said, “and it’s against the law”.  

I explained that we were trying to leave when the battery died, and this guy getting the spot was doing us a favor, we hadn’t been holding the spot, he had been waiting to park.  Denzel sized me up.  “We’re not trying to get over on anybody, this guy is just doing a good deed,” I said, sounding very reasonable.  Nobody would have suspected the mad thoughts that had just been racing around my head.

He got back into the white war machine and drove off.  I shook the other driver’s hand and thanked him, he parked the car in the contested spot. I got into the passenger seat of my friend’s car and leaned across to kiss her goodbye.  There was a loud crack and pain in the center of my forehead, the rear view mirror now hung at a crazy angle against the windshield.  It was impossible to reattach it so it could reveal the rear view it was intended to show.  She assured me it was fine, she was only going a few miles on the West Side Highway, that her guys would fix it tomorrow.

She was philosophical, and her philosophy struck me as a little bit crackpot.  I told her to wait, ran upstairs, got a roll of gaffer’s tape and tacked the rear view back in place.  She patted my now damp brow.  I kissed her goodbye and crossed the street to go back upstairs.  A giant white Humvee, with silver studs on the sides like shark’s gills, paused to let me walk in front of it on my side of the street.  I waved my hand by way of thanking them for pausing.

“Did you get it started?” a deep voiced asked me from the passenger window.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said, without turning my head.  I hopped up the one step to my lobby, went inside, up the two flights and sat at the computer, where I am now.

New York City, baby.