It was the end of Columbus Day weekend, and we were returning from an awesome hiking trip in upstate New York with a group of friends. Earlier in the day, we had squeezed in an additional hike, which was gorgeous and totally worth it (story for another time), but that made us getting back home later than expected. It was probably a 4–5 hour drive, and we were definitely tired. Sam, Jared, you, and myself. There was decent traffic heading back and that added to the driving tension, at least for me sitting in shotgun constantly bracing myself and holding on to the Jesus bar. Your Spotify road trip playlist has also already been on loop probably a third time by now, and we’ve all run out of energy to continue talking. The guys fell asleep in the back, and I had to fight from dozing off for fear of no one keeping you company to stay awake. I remember for dinner, we stopped at a McDonald’s, and I was really worried that you needed to rest from the driving (internally, I was freaking out with your tailgating and inability to switch lanes). We argued a bit about the driving, but you insisted that you weren’t tired and wouldn’t let me drive to alternate. It was your car after all.
Anyways, we made it to Nyack and dropped off Sam. The plan was always to avoid driving through Manhattan for a multitude of reasons that we both agreed to: 1) Your driving skills were not up to par with NYC drivers 2) Your anxiety level would be off the charts 3) Overnight parking in Jersey City is cheaper. You entered in the address of the JC parking garage into your phone GPS. It was probably almost 9pm, with less than an hour to go. We all had work the next day so was looking forward to some rest.
The three of us started talking again now that the end was in sight, and metaphorically with the foot to the pedal, we felt more energized. After 30 minutes or so, I started to notice that the highway signs seemed to indicate entry into Manhattan. You glanced down at your phone and confirmed that the GPS route was still on track, directing us this way. I felt a little uneasy, especially as traffic picked up, which seemed unexpected for a late-night return into Jersey City. Also, wasn’t the route intended to stay on the west side of the Hudson so we avoided all of this city highway stuff? A couple more minutes passed, and I seriously started to think that we were driving into Manhattan — although we never passed any toll booths. I commented again that something must be wrong because it definitely looked like we were driving into Manhattan. I reached for your phone to double check the route and address, and you practically shouted my head off yelling “Don’t touch the GPS!! The routing is correct! I can’t drive without seeing the map!” With that, I knew you knew that you were somehow driving through Manhattan and the map was wrong. It was your worst fear.
To be fair, you were driving pretty well given the circumstances and your anxiety level so high. It was also quite beautiful actually, with the buildings, overpasses, and city lights sparkling as we sped along other cars with the water to our left. While it didn’t make sense since JC is on the other side of the island, and the routing shouldn’t logically be taking us through Manhattan, it was clear we were driving down FDR. I was better with directions, map reading, and general navigation, so I shouted back at you to stay calm and just keep driving while I took the phone to figure out what was going on. The rest of the ride, we shouted a lot at each other. That makes me smile now; a classic Salina/Catherine way of “solving problems”. Poor Jared in the back seat might have tried offering some advice, but quickly resorted to sitting quietly, as we fought it out.
We blamed the GPS for sending us the wrong way. Why would stupid Google Maps take us on an illogical routing through Manhattan when we were trying to get to Jersey City. I checked the destination address and quite confusedly saw the GPS taking us to basically 2 blocks away from my downtown apt. This made even less sense…and that’s when I saw the address input as 100 Exchange Place, New York and not 100 Exchange Place, New Jersey. It did not help the anxiety level when I pointed out that you had input the address for the wrong state. Also, pretty coincidental that there would be a near exact address in almost parallel latitudinal directions. There was more shouting. All the while, we kept speeding down FDR and really did end up in the Financial District, very near my apt. Rough conversation from what I recall:
C: GAHHH I’M SO SORRY. OMG I’M DRIVING THROUGH MANHATTAN RIGHT NOW. I DON’T KNOW WHERE I’M GOING. I’M SO SORRY. I CAN’T DRIVE IN MANHATTAN.
S: IT’S OK, WE’RE ACTUALLY GETTING REALLY CLOSE TO MY APT AND IT’LL BE EASY TO REROUTE AND GET TO JERSEY CITY. THE TUNNEL IS QUITE NEAR. IT’LL BE OK. I KNOW THE WAY.
C: STOP NO, SINCE WE’RE GOING SO CLOSE TO YOUR APT ANYWAYS, I’LL JUST DROP YOU OFF AND DRIVE THE REST OF THE WAY BACK TO PHILADELPHIA INSTEAD.
S: THAT IS THE DUMBEST IDEA EVER BECAUSE THAT’S ANOTHER 2 HOURS AND I’M NOT GOING TO LET YOU DO THAT DRIVE TONIGHT. YOU’VE ALREADY BEEN DRIVING FOR HOURS AND YOU ARE NOT FIT TO DRIVE ANYMORE TONIGHT.
C: IT’S FINE. I WANT TO GO BACK TO PHILLY AND I’M NOT TIRED. [you start crying here]
S: I’M NOT FREAKING LEAVING YOU TO DRIVE ALONE. SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO MY DIRECTIONS. I’LL TELL YOU WHERE TO GO AND WE’LL BE THERE WITH NO PROBLEMS. STOP TALKING AND LISTEN TO ME.
You pull the car over on West St because we’re finally off the highway looped around the southern tip of Manhattan and the area has less traffic. You’re crying and saying you want to keep driving home to Philly while I’m telling you there’s no way I would get off and leave you alone to drive back to Philly tonight. We were in the streets of my neighborhood, so I was well versed in knowing that it was a quick drive to JC and everything will be fine. At this point, Jared spoke up from the back seat and very prudently said thanks for a great weekend, grabbed his stuff, and hopped out of the car to take the subway back to his place. I remember that moment because I think both of us forgot he was even there, subject to our chaotic best friend bickering over a ridiculous situation. No doubt he wanted to get out of the car stat.
Jared’s interjection gave us the moment to collect ourselves. You took some breaths, wiped your eyes, and stopped panic-talking about wanting to drive 2 more hours home tonight. I pulled up the correct address of the parking garage in JC, turned off the music, and said confidently that we will be fine. It really was only a few blocks to the Holland Tunnel, and by allowing me to navigate, you drove slowly and calmly, and we got to the parking garage in 15 minutes. Shortly thereafter, we took the PATH and returned back to Manhattan, walked to my apt safe and sound for the night, back according to the original plan — albeit several hours late.
We didn’t talk much the rest of the night for obvious reasons. Both physically exhausted from the weekend hikes and long car ride; mentally stressed from the driving and arguing. We showered and went to sleep. You left fairly early the next morning to drive back to Philadelphia. I know we awkward hugged when you left, as that’s what we always do since neither of us are big huggers, and well, that was the end of another adventure.
Afterthought #1: I only learned afterwards that everyone else also thought you were a bad driver. I used to feel so guilty thinking it (and only jokingly referenced your horrible driving). True, there are the stories about the stop sign run in, your stewardess costume car mishap, etc. but we’ve taken multiple road trips together and thankfully, survived all of them with no issues, so your driving couldn’t be that bad. Besides, I also relied on your driving/car for many of the adventures we had, so didn’t want to offend. Either way, it was an interesting realization that your driving was notorious. I used to think I was overly particular!
Afterthought #2: This is a great story of an adventure, and sometimes I forget, but it is also the last adventure we had while things were still normal.
