Dispatches from the Cusp of Greatness

By Jocelyn Jane Cox

Regular reenactment of the joyride scene involving a red sports car and a parking garage in the film, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Your gas tank nearing “empty” though you just filled it up yesterday.

Attendants napping in car when you arrive to pick it up.

Tiny dents from other car doors covering every inch of your car so that it begins to appear pitted as a golf ball.

Attendants constantly moving seat and steering wheel so that every time you get in your car, it feels as foreign as a rental.

Attendants sneezing on steering wheel.

Trying to change lanes on the FDR and discovering that the passenger side mirror is still folded in, the car equivalent of “sucking it in” so that more cars can be squeezed into a smaller space.

Attendants wearing off-season clothes you store in your backseat due to lack of closet space.

Seeing your car up on the lift (basically a shelving unit for cars) when you know it’s afraid of heights.

Seeing your car cowering under the lift, then noticing a dent running the length of your roof. This is followed by an accusation, a denial of guilt, and, finally, the pointing of an index finger toward a sign absolving management from any and all responsibility regarding damages.

Forgetting your cellphone, or laptop, or banana, or something else of equal importance, and being unable to retrieve it because, as another sign on the wall says, you must give the attendants three hours notice in order for them to retrieve your car.

Becoming so accustomed to leaving your keys in the ignition when you get out, that you continually do so in other parking scenarios.

However, there is one critical advantage to becoming a monthly customer at a New York parking garage:

A parking space.