Sometimes, I have an idea for a title I like so much, it requires documenting trips I normally wouldn't to use it.
Anabelle had a couple of events scheduled which, through no fault or planning of her own, ended up the same weekend that the World Cup final was playing in our neck of the woods. They were also both connected to friends from NovaNoise, the Villanova Tap group they all helped run.
Concerned about her driving to Long Island for the first time during any revels the night before the final game, and dealing with the mobs on mass transit they day of that game, Rosa and I volunteered to drive her to both. We could spend time together while she did her things, and I have my weird, zen connection to driving- meaning that part wouldn't be an issue.
About half way through the runner up match on Saturday, we boarded my car and headed East. Fortune smiled on us and our travel time squeezed between the massive thunderstorms running up our coast that day. Anabelle and Rosa continued to follow the game on their phones and I established firm ground rules that there needed to be strict differentiation between shouts concerning soccer moments and shouts concerning a vehicle which may be about to kill us.
We always tell friends and family on Long Island that, coming from New Jersey, we will either be an hour early, or three hours late. There is no in between. This evening was on the early side.
Bridge traffic was forgiving for this trip. My knowing when to ignore the blue line paid off, and as usual, the Upper Level of the George Washington was the way to go. There was some stop and go approaching that, nearing the Throggs Neck and traversing the Cross Island, but nothing overly troublesome. Even the GPS was smart enough to ignore the L.I.E., and we took the Southern State to Bellmore.
The Loft at Bellmore listed parking on the street, which looked full and was time limited. It also listed a parking lot in the back shared with a theater. Rosa and I assumed (based on nothing) that it was a "stage performance" type theater which would mean plenty of parking for the party location. We did not figure out it was a "multiplex movie theater on the premier weekend of The Odyssey" until our arrival and found ourselves driving around the full parking lot multiple times. (Good thing we were an hour early.) We noticed a woman getting in to her car just as we passed her. Fortune smiled upon us again, as none of the other folks circling the lot who drove by that spot as we sped back around saw her get in the car. We returned in time to take her place and spend some time in the car chatting and following the game.
Anabelle went into the festivities a little early when she knew her friend had arrived and Rosa and I found our way to the Diner with significant Gluten Free options she had scouted before leaving.
I don't know what I initially had in mind, but the smell of their pancakes locked me unshakably onto that idea. They did have "turkey bacon" which was more like Turkey Ham, but protein is protein. Rosa had an omelet stuffed full of veggies and meat. As the runner up soccer game ended, we had out breakfast for dinner as slow as possible. This was due to the massive storm that blew by while we were in there. It was clear by the quality of the food we had why the cash only place was a huge local hang out. When the locals entering looked less soggy, we finished up and walked the neighborhood together.
The rain obligingly slowed to somewhere between nothing and a trickle while we wandered around the main drag of this upscale Long Island town. We did pass the swanky Italian joint we were scoping out when we first knew we were going. Their single appetizers costing more than our combined meals at the diner is what steered us away. They even had valet parking. They had no parking lot, meaning customers were paying to have someone drive their car around the neighborhood until they found a spot on the street.
There was a little recording studio with a band playing in the front window, adding live music to our walk. There were also several people creating massive clouds of weed around themselves, adding to our walk changing directions on several occasions.
After she had been at the party a few hours, and Rosa and I had eaten and strolled around talking, we met up in the parking lot as lightning began to reappear in the sky.
The rain waited until we were driving home to return, which was considerate. The Cross Bronx Expressway proved my point that it can be fully congested any time of the day or night, which was not considerate.
Traffic cleared up once we were in New Jersey, and the delay to the Bridge gave them time to tow away an accident in Paterson before we reached it.
We rested overnight for another river crossing the next day.
Anabelle had ordered her Noah Kahan ticket well before registering that the World Cup final would be the same day, and in our state. She originally targeted the Saturday show, and it was good that sold out, because the storms we drove in the night before cancelled it. I kept asking her if it was "at Shea" and she'd look at me confused saying, "No, its at Citi Field." I feel justified in that our friends that are life long Queens residents also called it Shea.
Lexi showed up at our house after some standard New Jersey traffic issues on Route 15. The World Cup was causing some major blue line hallucinations this day. The GPS suggested we would save five minutes by taking 287 all the way to the top of the state and then down 208, which was unlikely. Then it suggested we would save seven minutes ignoring the Whitestone and taking the Harlem River Drive down to the RFK Bridge, which was foolhardy. Finally it suggested saving three minutes driving right next to the World Cup final, and taking the Lincoln Tunnel to cut across the watch party filled Manhattan, which was insane.
They followed the game while I drove. They had been rooting for Argentina all along, but the fact that team "played badly" using every possibly definition of that phrase cushioned the blow of their loss for Anabelle somewhat.
Ben, who've I've known since the E-Dorm days, and his wife Debbie are both life long Queens residents. I asked him about parking and places to hang out near the stadium such as malls. He gave me a couple options and given the forecast of rain (which changed) the Shops at Skyview seemed the best choice.
Online information straight up lied to us that people could only be dropped off and picked up from Shea at one location, and also that the walking distance to the Skyview Mall was over twenty minutes. The reason for the former, I never discovered. The reason for the latter was that is was calculated from that one pick up point, meaning the person would need to walk around the entire stadium, instead of coming out the main entrance.
There were some stop and go approaching the George Washington and the Whitestone Bridges that delayed us, but nothing that wasn't more than countered by our experience making us leave far sooner than we thought we needed to.
Lexi and Anabelle got out at "the only drop off point." They entered to have a fantastic night. One of the two openers was coincidentally also named Annabelle (Dinda) and our Anabelle was a big fan. She was the only one rocking out to her in the stadium, and had a grand time doing it. Noah Kahan always has a phone call from a local celebrity before his phone based song. In this case, it was Elmo and Cookie Monster. I believe we could hear Anabelle's scream of delight from where we were at the time in Northern Queens.
After they got out, we navigated driving around the hordes of people being dropped off everywhere else. This took us along that walking path around the entire stadium illustrating just how close the mall was. The distance from the main stadium entrance to the parking garage was a couple of blocks up Roosevelt Avenue. Also the bridge had fully covered walkways on either side of it. Our plan to navigate the likely to be enormous Uber line was shifting.
The parking garage had a decent rate for events, six levels and plenty of parking on the top tiers. It also had what we thought was the worst building design we'd ever seen. We got lost on level three for quite a while, occasionally ending up in a dead end requiring a thirty-seven point turn, before we found our way to the ramp. Eventually we found a spot next to what we thought was the mall. A very confused medical worker placing samples in a pick up box informed us the mall was on the other side of the garage from the hospital we parked next to.
While not anywhere close to Peru levels, there were enough screens turned to the game that we could find out how it ended. The mall design made the garage look well ordered and straight forward.
The mall had six floors as well. All were weirdly serpentine with no clear pattern. The maps were outdated, featuring a barbecue restaurant on the top floor which we were informed was "all Target." Ben and Debbie came to meet us for dinner while Rosa and I wandered aimlessly around the varied levels and outside. The few food places we found had staff that didn't seem to know the meaning of "gluten." In one case asking their children, "How do you say gluten in
Chinese." They knew and it didn't help.
Chinese." They knew and it didn't help.
Ben suggested a strip mall near him up in Whitestone with a good selection. Then he got lost trying to leave the parking garage and needed to make a thirty-seven point turn to exit a dead end.
Ben and Debbie gave us a cool tour through the neighborhoods where they live now and where they grew up on the way to the place. There was another nicely varied diner. They had burgers and sandwiches while Rosa and I had a second breakfast for dinner. It was an all around warm and fun evening, reminding us we should really get together more often. We continued talking well after we finished eating.
When the owners were giving us the "we'd like to close" eye, we decided to leave. We knew the proximity of the stadium to the mall, the fact that the mall was closed, and the fact that the concert was scheduled to be over soon. Therefore we asked Ben to drop us off near the main stadium entrance. We texted Anabelle to meet us there and we'd walk them back. The concert was running over and we planned to wait outside. However, Ben easily found a parking place next to the stadium on Roosevelt Avenue, where all the previously gathered information explained no parking would be permitted. Therefore we continued our nostalgic and entertaining conversation while listening to the final numbers and encores of Noah Kahan.
We did find each other, and managed to control any anxiety about the garage being closed after the online parking reservation time ended because they charged an "Event Rate." Once we pushed around and through the train crowds, providing further evidence that trying to get there from West New Jersey via mass transit would have been a nightmare, it was a quick walk to the garage.
There were two elevators. one was haunted. I have no other explanation. It arrived several times and no one got in. I was never close enough to see what was going on inside it.
The drive home from Queens to New Jersey took under an hour, proving when we say we do live close to New York City it is accurate.
The reason the drive was that quick came from how poorly designed the garage was. It took us well over an hour and a half to get out of there.
Lines of cars came from multiple directions, just backing out of the space was an effort. We were right next to the down ramp but there was no way I could turn sharply enough to make it, and by the time I did back out, I would be cutting into a huge line. I went the other way, got on what I thought was the back of the line we'd seen... and sat there for an extended period. Rosa got out to look around and found out we were on a different line. Luckily we were at an intersection and could break free and drive around to the real line. Then... the inching began. Multiple mergings made getting off the top public level a slow and complex process.
Fortunately, the amount of time that took allowed the same thing happening below us to thin out the crowd. Being on the main set of ramps to the exit, our descent increased in speed a tad at each level until we finally broke free.
The highways and bridges were quite empty once we reached them allowing a speedy arrival at home, and proving that, yes, we do live only 45 minutes from Queens in the mythical moments when there is no traffic.
These adventures proved that complicated and extravagant plans are not needed for date nights... just the right person.
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