Sunday, December 03, 2006

A WICKED-ly good Anniversary

Lynne Robinson, Hewitt, New Jersey

Note: This blog entry is long, so I’ve divided it into two parts. If you want to read the whole entry, click on MORE as this entry ends below.
As many of you know, Rick and I celebrated our 25th anniversary on October 17th. We decided to do it up in style since we are so close to New York City. We had tickets [orchestra, 3rd row center] to WICKED and planned to go to our little restaurant off Fifth Avenue afterwards. We had hired a car to take us in, pick us up after the show, take us to the restaurant, and finally to bring us home. We could have driven ourselves, but for this special occasion we didn’t want to worry about where to park or driving after having some anniversary wine. We thought it would be simpler. Easier. After all a driver would know exactly where they were going and we wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Or would we?

The Getting There

It was a rainy day. The driver was due to arrive to pick us up at 5:00 p.m. since on Tuesday nights, the shows all start at 7:00 instead of the usual 8:00. We were certain that a two hour window would get us there in time even with heavy traffic.  About ten minutes before five, the phone rang. It was the driver saying he might be about 5 minutes late. Okay, we can handle that.
and he still isn’t here. We’re starting to panic a bit at this point since it is a rainy night and we have no idea what the traffic is going to be like going in to the city. Rick calls him on his cell phone and he tells Rick where he is; about ten minutes away at this point. It’s going to be close. He finally arrives [it’s 5:35] and we hurry into the car. He tells us that he Googled our address and he didn’t believe the route it told him to take, so he took a different way. DUH! Then he proceeds to ask Rick the quickest way to Manhattan from here. Hello! Isn’t he supposed to know? Why does he think we hired a car and driver?? The good thing is that he appears to be a good driver and he’s driving fast but not recklessly.

tick, tock…tick, tock…

Traffic appears to moving and we relax a bit. Maybe it won’t be so close after all. We settle back into the comfy seats of the Lincoln Town car. Until that is, we come to a dead stop in traffic and we’re not even to Paramus yet. Not a good sign. Our driver doesn’t think it’s a good sign either. Stop and go traffic continues for a few miles, then opens back up and we’re moving pretty good again. The driver takes a cell phone call from his daughter and proceeds to chat to her for the next ten minutes. He tells us his family woes and how he can’t afford to fill up his fuel tank, so right now they don’t have any fuel oil. His wife is mad because for two days she hasn’t been able to take a hot shower. [Do we really need to know this?] We hit another pocket of barely-creeping-along traffic. After we get through that bad patch it’s
as we finally reach the G.W. [George Washington bridge].

tick, tock…tick, tock…

Our driver is starting to sweat. He says, “Well, it’s not looking too good. I guess I’m going to have to buy you some theater tickets if we don’t make it.” Trust me buddy, you don’t want to have to reimburse us for these tickets, they were mighty expensive, I think to myself. Rick is looking a little green at this point. Or maybe he was just getting into character for the show? At this point it wasn’t looking good for us to make it to the theater by 7:00. If we don’t make it, not only are we out the cost for the tickets but it would kind of ruin the whole evening that we had planned for so long. Bummer. And traffic on the Henry Hudson was not helping. He goes several blocks further then he needs to, so we end up backtracking.

It’s 6:55.

tick, tock…tick, tock…




Welcome, I'm Lynne. You know me better as a 'new' Jersey Girl. But now I've moved once again, this time to North Carolina. Here I write about my thoughts, good food, and of course, dogs.

© 2006-2022 Lynne Robinson All photography and text on this blog is copyright. For use or reproduction please ask me first.

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