True story about my evening last night, which may or may not tie into an earlier post about sleep deprivation:
I left the Garden “after writing my story”:http://www.thejournalnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071005/SPORTS01/710050410 around 11:30, got my car and drove north on West Side Highway back toward Blog Headquarters. Then I remembered I didn’t have any gas, because I was too lazy to get some before the game, and I thought maybe I could make it home without needing to stop.
But I couldn’t. Or maybe I could have. I don’t know. The point is that after getting stuck in traffic in the Bronx, I was officially paranoid about running out of gas in the middle of the highway, so I pulled off the exit around New Rochelle, and drove around looking for a gas station. So I drove. And drove. And drove some more—I actually passed a bar where there was a guy in a Sean Avery jersey milling outside—before eventually I was back in the Bronx, and I pulled into a McDonald’s asking where the nearest open gas station was. The lady mentioned three that I had just passed and were all closed.
Long story short: Around 12:30, an hour after first leaving the Garden, I found the lone open gas station where—no lie—the guy inside was asleep in his chair, and I had to knock on the glass to pay for my gas. So there you have it. The Rangers opened their season in rousing fashion. I opened mine submitting my own nomination for dunce of the year.