New York (for a) Minute

If I had a bucketlist this summer (which I planned on making a post about but realized I really wouldn't accomplish many of my desired to do's) the #3 or #4 on the list was make it to NYC. In the home stretch, a week away from saying goodbye to summer, shorts, and shandy, I decided at 4 in the morning that day (read: saturday) that I was just going to go for it. Although I had no idea what I was about to face.

Driving to Hoboken (birth place of Sinatra-- hi!) was nothing short of easy. Traffic, rain, and impatient Rachel made for it a looooong ride. Finally, after paying a whole whopping $10.20 just to the NJ turnpike (#bye), the sun began to shine.

I had no set plan as to what I wanted to do in the city, I just knew I wanted to be there. We ended up in flatiron district, got a glimpse of Empire State Building, checked out some tourist shops, walked Central Park, and then (really) got drunk on a stoop on the Upper East side. It's like I was pulling a Chuck Bass...it's fine -really.  Before I knew it the night was over, and little grandma Rachel stayed up until 4am. Which meant the next day (sunday) wouldn't be a pretty one. I woke up early to get home to have all the cuddle pups in the world, but as soon as getting to my car I saw my tire light on. I panicked and naturally ended up at the closest Dunkin Donuts because thats how I figured I could solve my problems. I was wrong. 5 or so hashbrowns in, I get to my car and try to drive away. 

Uh nope, my car said. I had a bad case of flat tire syndrome (which I get monthly...). I was stuck. on a sunday. two hours from home. I had to get towed to a local shop (since car dealerships are closed sundays...like oh hey eff you, just saying) and wait three hours to get my tire replaced. The tow truck driver asked me if I would date him [had to block his number since he called me after he dropped me off...he had my number since my towing service gave it to him I'm not THAT weird]. Luckily, it was a block away from the waterfront and I got to experience this view and realized shit could have been worse.

Moral of the story: I shouldn't leave the comfort of my own bed to accomplish things on my summer bucket list because I'll be out of a few bucks here and there. and a pair of sunglasses. Grool.