Saturday, January 30, 2010

Trust Garmin and you'll find yourself in Staten Island.

I was meeting my parents in Brooklyn for the Brooklyn Flea, as they were interested in seeing it first hand after seeing some amateur's photos online. Rather than meet at my apartment three exits down off the BQE from the Flea, it was agreed meeting there was best.

0 for 1.

Because it's weekend construction season (when is it not), I used HopStop to figure out how the heck to get there. The 4/5 was out of commission, leaving the blasted Q. Some people are fans. I am not. Never have, never will.

HS greatly underestimated the efficiency of Saturday Q's. By the time I was crossing the Manhattan Bridge I was smacked with 4 voice mails of "we're here, where are you" from two wandering New Jersey antique'rs. Fear not, they were parked and already perusing the trinkets by the time I got there.

My friend MS came along for the "experience," and by that I don't mean the designer jewelry and vintage jackets. For those of you that know my father know what I mean. He had her cornered in Storytelling Lane almost immediately; I'm pretty sure they discussed tennis racket bat killing and pyrotechnics, amongst other things. Somehow, she survived.

So we walked the halls, shared Red Hook lobster sandwiches and stellar grilled cheese, and listened to my old man point out every antique he had as a child. Or blew up. Or still owns.

Not a single picture was taken.

0 for 2.

A trip to the city would not be complete without a supply of the greatest coffee in the land. We hit the road with my old East Village address correctly entered into the Garmin. And ended up in Staten Island. Staten FREAKING Island. Home of at least one Jersey Shore cast member.

0 for 3. Struck out looking.

The onus is on me for this one. I was half paying attention in the back seat, naively trusting technology to lead us to Coffee Heaven 6.1 miles away. Over the Verrazano, into Staten Island and back again is not the way to do it. As a newly minted Brooklynite, I'm downright ashamed.

My parents were on their way home after one unnecessary toll, 30 minutes, and four pounds of coffee later. MS and I took advantage of being below 14th Street and picked up a much-needed sugar kick from Venerio's.


1 for 4.

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