Good news bad news on Ack Stress O Ride

The good news was that I tell them that my appointment is 45 minutes earlier than it really is so I stand a chance of getting there on time.

The bad news was that the driver was just so stupid that he couldn't follow my directions and insisted on driving into the gridlock that is always a Flatbush Avenue.  Really, he insisted on driving onto Flatbush Avenue at 930 in the morning. It is gridlock regularly from grand Army Plaza all the way to the Manhattan Bridge. Then once we got to Manhattan he had a drop off in Stuyvesant Town.  The address was on 14th St. but the lady kept telling him that he had to enter the apartment complex from First Avenue.  So we drove in circles all around Stuyvesant Town until he figured out that she was right.  Whatever, see above I built in 45 minutes to my trip, so I can get there on time.

The better news was that because this guy did not drive we went over the Brooklyn Bridge. I used to run with a heart rate monitor. Just for about a year when I first started running. The reason I threw it away was because it was telling me to slow down and lower my heart rate when I ran up the hill but is the Brooklyn Bridge. Fuck that shit. The whole reason to run is to get excited and run hard and over the Brooklyn Bridge. I wasn't wearing a heart rate monitor what I know my heart was racing when we went up that awesome bridge.

I told the story to the driver. I read this book called The Great Bridge. I paraphrased the last paragraph of this great big book. In 1969 there was 100-year-old lady at a party celebrating the fact that men walking on The Moon.  A reporter asked her what she thought of the celebration. She replied, "This ain't nothing, you should've been here when they opened the Brooklyn Bridge."  The driver smiled. The story though may or may not have been true. It doesn't matter, I'm a sightseeing guide that our job is to tell entertaining stories not the truth.

But, back to the driver. He was very nice guy, but he couldn't find his way out of a paper bag.  In my mind I was trying to figure out if he was a putz or a schmuck.  This distinction has been argued for decades on Vaudeville and more currently on Comedy Central.  For the rest of the ride so I wouldn't get stressed out about possibly being late I tried to decide if he was a putz or a schmuck.  I decided to define a Putz as someone who is too stupid to find a way out of a paper bag but knew they were that stupid so they didn't try. My driver however was, a schmuck. He was too stupid to get out of a paper bag but kept trying anyway.   In either case, they are not evil or unpleasant people, just incompetent

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