Costco, with a Nabokovian interlude which’ll help me get out of telling about the boring parts
It was pretty hard to get there. As inter-borough travel always does, it misrepresented itself cruelly on the map. “Ah!” we said to ourselves, “it is closer than 86th street!” And anyway, we had our Magellan to tell us which way to turn, in point-how-many-miles, and to recalculate lest we, as is inevitable, doubt him/her, and trust our own instincts. (*Note: we have not yet resolved the issue posed by the male name/female robot voice incongruity to the sexual identity of our GPS navigator.)
Having crossed the bridge, we hit a slight snag resulting from road closures in Queens (typical), and Magellan (typical) took forever to recalculate. By the time he/she had, we had mounted the ramp of the bridge which heads back towards Manhattan. Surprise! Confusion bled into discouraging moment of realization. Feelings of frustration and self-loathing. Enduring temptation of Costco prepared foods. Return passage to Queens. Sense of accomplishment at imminent completion of two (!) trips to Long Island City and back in a matter of hours!
But getting to Costco was still not the piece of cake mom likes for lunch. Feeling close to our destination, but fearful of but a 6 degree deviation which could be the difference between arrival at our destination and a third inter-borough adventure in one day, we pulled over to ask assurance from a traffic cop.
Us: “Hello! Is this the way to Washington Boulevard?”
Plump Pakistani Policeman: “Bluebird?”
Us: “…”
Us, having revisited the suggestion: “Um, no, Washington Boulevard.”
Our new friend: “Washing a bluebird?”
No. That wasn’t really it.
“Well, do you know where Costco is?”
“Cocktail?”
Well, still not quite. Anyway, things might have gotten awkward with this traffic cop, but luckily mom got distracted by her incredulity and accidentally bumped the car in front of us, so we really had to hurry on our way.
However, (you knew this was coming) I shall not bore my learned readers with a detailed account of Costcita’s presumption. Suffice it to say that not a trace of modesty did I perceive in this beautiful, hardly formed creature we encountered upon returning home.
Whose cat has scratched poor you?
07.04.2009(11:03 am)
Bird leaving the nest for the first time. why does that have resonance at this time? what could be the metaphorical antecedent? I wonder.
22.08.2011(8:07 am)
Your feed was shared by Themelis Cuiper’s SocialGarden case studies : advertising & socialmedia, so you must be doing a fantastic job!