Upon my arrival in Boston, a city famous for narrow lanes, winding streets and violently fast drivers, a city where driving is a contact sport, I proceed to the rental car counter to pick up my reserved, mid-size vehicle. Upon my arrival I'm informed that they are all out of mid-size cars. "I can let you have a minivan for the same price. Is that ok?" "Uh, no. Actually I'd rather not have a minivan, thanks." The idea of navigating the turbulent rapids of Boston traffic in a bulky minivan gives me a brief skiff of goosebumps. The attendant looks disgruntled.
"Well I can give you a Ford something-or-other. It's all we've got left." She gestures toward the pictures of sport utility vehicles. It's not quite what I wanted (or reserved for that matter - why they hell don't reservations actually reserve things?) but it's a hell of an improvement on a minivan so I sign the papers, take the keys and head for the parking lot. My traveling companion points out a shiny new Ford Explorer in the vicinity that we're headed for. "Is that it? That must be it! Sweet, what a great SUV!" I'm momentarily happy, then realize that the Explorer in question is in stall 334, not 335, which is the stall I've been sent to. "No, that's not it, it's the one behind it. I think it's the same thing though, it's… Oh dear Jesus." My car, it turns out, is the Ford Excursion, the largest SUV ever built and possibly one of the largest machines ever constructed without the benefit of slave labour. I'm horrified - it's easily the size of two minivans. It seats twelve - comfortably. By Massachusetts state laws, you can drink alcohol in the rear rows because they are so far away from the driver that you are not legally considered to be in a motor vehicle. The Excursion is a Godless burden. I manoeuvre it precariously through twisting arteries that swirl with angry traffic while beads of sweat flow freely down my face. It's like trying to swim with salmon at spawning time, except that my credit card is getting dinged every time someone bumps me. A sea of blaring horns, waving fists, and ghoulish faces of contorted anger, wavers nebulously around me as I navigate the troubled streets of New England's largest city. I find it stressful. The crowning glory comes when I arrive at my suburban hotel in the early AM hours, depleted and frayed from my unexpected difficulties, only to find that the Ford is so big it won't fit in the parking garage. After much exasperated finagling and beseeching, I wind up parking it in an abandoned lot, next to a power sub-station. I quietly pray that thieves will spirit it away in the night, but its considerable mass and unfeasible parking requirements deter even the wiliest of criminals. It waits for me the next day like a stubborn wart. Travelers - beware the curse of Kelly Hrudey! Ominous Omen #2 - Crossing the Path of John Ritter - You know, you really wouldn't think that this would be such a bad thing - he seems so nice and all. Do not be fooled, wary nomads. John may very well be charming and personable, but like a mosquito brings malaria, John is a carrier for a special kind of evil. Yes, when you think about it, it kind of makes sense; If you cross the path of Hollywood personality and former Three's Company star, John Ritter, you are doomed to experience a Jack Tripper style embarrassing incident. Ok, so it doesn't mean that you'll be lost at sea and forced to spend long months atoning for past misdeeds before being allowed to die. Some omens are more moderate than others. Not that that death at sea thing wouldn't have been better than what happened to me. So here's the story - the awful truth behind how I was able to glean this terrible piece of soul-scaring knowledge. Read on, weary friends, that you might profit from my misfortune. You see, I was in a mall food court (oooh, it even starts out bad), and I noticed that they were filming a movie there. The cameras were set up and lots of film people were scurrying around. There were signs warning that you were entering a movie set, and by doing so were giving consent to be filmed, and there was a small throng of spectators watching the action. In the midst of it all sat John Ritter and a few other actors. They were at a food court table and a number of cameras were set up, getting ready to begin filming. |
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possibly inspired by Stevie Wonder 
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