Congratulations on Liberating Your Car!

After weeks ploughed into a snowdrift in New York, weeks of staring at your car from your apartment window, dreaming of sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, honking ceaselessly, violently turning and dooring bikers willy nilly, today is the day.  Following a three day 50 degree heat wave, courtesy of global warming, the ice surrounding your car will finally dissolve into a series of puddles which, in turn, will bake off the sidewalk against glittering sunlight and heat.

You'll leap out your front door on to the sidewalk, over the crackhead sleeping on your stoop, and dance your way up to the driver's side door of your vehicle.

"Hello car!" you'll shout at the top of your lungs, staring at the moldy interior of your 1983 Toyota Tercel.  You'll make kissy faces at the beaded seat covers contained within until you hear a coughing sound to your right.

There, lined up down the street, will be most of your friends from Brooklyn.  Some will be clutching heavy bags, others will have printouts from the Ikea website.  A handful will have serious injuries, bound by paper towels and masking tape.  One of them will have a puppy.  They'll all want the same thing.

"Can we have a ride?" they'll ask in unison, a wave of sound cascading on you, a mantra that besieges you during the summer months.  Your mouth will hang open as you consider your response.

"Nooooooooooooooooo!" you'll scream, pointing your finger at each and every one of your friends down the line, watching their faces collapse, watching some of them actually collapse from their injuries.  You'll contain to moan at them until you hit your friend with the puppy.  Once you get to her, you'll crack a smile and shout:

"Come on in, you!"

Then the two of you will hop in and drive down to Dead Horse Bay, where you'll play with a puppy and take black and white photos of industrial waste for the rest of the day.

Congratulations on Liberating Your Car!