Let’s just say I’m not a Jersey girl.
We had a nice little Saturday planned out. We had our appointment with the furniture store at 10 a.m. and our appointment with the church at 11:30. No problem, I told CJ. We would be out of the apartment lickity split, order the furniture, and be on the road by 10:45. No problem, fiance! I got this!
We did not leave the house until 10:20 a.m. I admit.
I also admit that we found another piece of furniture that we liked to that also took some time to order.
Then I admit that the car was parked in front of a fire hydrant so therefore that required a lot of circling the block/ducking out/annoying our sales representative to no end.
But this is where things spun disastrously out of control.
We left the store at 10:50. Right on schedule.
CJ has put me on navigation duty. MISTAKE NUMERO UNO.
I asked him to do it, but he tells me he cannot drive in New York City and handle the iPhone map system at the same time.
So we are given a choice. Right or straight. My mappie tells me that right will bring us right onto the West Side Highway, which is gold.
Straight looks messy.
I tell CJ make a right. All of a sudden, things are happening, there are police, areas are blocked off, there are cones, it’s a blur. Then I see the fateful sign:
This is the kiss of death. This brings you out of the promise land and into the devil’s mouth.
We are in the tunnel. In bumper to bumper traffic. It is now 11:01. We are never, repeat NEVER going to hop skip and jump three states in 29 minutes.
I keep thinking it will end. CJ says surely a tunnel cannot last this long. It does not end. We are in the tunnel without cell service for an amount of time that should be illegal. So many people wanted to go to New Jersey on Saturday morning. So many.
CJ says we should try to get there from NJ instead of turning around. I disagree but keep moving. This is my mistake in the first place, let’s not split hairs. He is only speaking in short sentences at this point. I think we might break up. (Mom- not really.)
I find a route. We get on the route. It is the wrong route. We get off said route. We somehow end up in Jersey City looking at the Statue of Liberty. CJ is not pleased. He did not want to see the sights today. We turn around. Find another route. It is the wrong route. My phone dies. I do not tell CJ because I am scared.
It is now 11:45.
Now, it is no secret that NYC isn’t my fave. But when you are in New Jersey, NYC is your girl. It is your jam. You want nothing else in the world than to be on her golden shores, eating her delicious pizza, taking the 2/3 train just because you CAN.
Then we see the GW Bridge. CJ says, “Ok! Here we go!”
Bumper. to. bumper. traffic.
We arrive home at a nice 2 p.m.
The church thinks we are delinquents. (unconfirmed but suspected)
I start to cry.
CJ tries to make me feel better, promises you cannot get kicked out of a church for missing one appointment. I consider this. CJ and I have a serious talk about scheduling.
UPDATE: Church has rescheduled, gave us hugs via e-mail, theyloveussomuch, and we are meeting in two Saturdays. I also asked CJ if we could look at houses in Jersey. No response. Yet.