call me crazy, but looking at a burnt out car as i exit or return to my apartment just ain't my thang. probably because i'm so high brow.
and probably because my lovely neighborhood has been pulling itself up by its bootstraps over the last 2 decades [please let's just avoid the gentrification tangent for a moment and focus on the positive, shall we] and abandoned car carcasses aren't doing much for the general aesthetic.
here's where my particularly low-threshold impatience comes in handy to my fellow neighbors, whom i'll assume are also none-too-happy about the charcoaled astro van. [backstory: a car caught on fire and has been left untouched since sunday on my street and it's ugly and it smells and is an eye-sore. and i seriously doubt anyone is chomping at the bit to do a thing about it]. i decided today, that hell, i'm over this, let's find out how much longer its going to be sitting there. complaining is all fine and well, but its even finer and weller when, should you complain to the correct person, you actually accomplish something! preemptive hooray for a not-yet-accomplished job!
and here, now, with you, dear reader, we will go on the long bureaucratic journey that is :
GETTING SOMEONE TO REMOVE A BURNT-OUT, ABANDONED CAR!
step #1, call 311
unsurprisingly, the operator passes the buck to the police, but not before she astonishingly questions why in god's good name would i want a burnt-out car removed from my street. i mean, it's only been there for 4 days. i mention to her that it smells [which it does, something terribly acrid and what i can only imagine to be poisonous, carcinogenic fumes lingering around the automobile...yuck!]. she says this problem isn't her problem and to try the police, 88th precinct to be exact.
step #2, call 88th precinct
similar 'round about as above, but this time they say, oh golly gee willikers, would love to help a dame like you out, but you've got the wrong guys. try the 79th precinct.....
step #3, call 79th precinct
hmmm, i'm onto the trend here. no one wants to take responsibility. gotcha. at this point, i'm pointed to brooklyn sanitation, everyone's favorite government department! yay!
step #4, dept of sanitation nyc
the man on the other end of the connection informs me of two things: 1. everyone is passing the buck and 2. its's not in his jurisdiction. i'm not sure if he thought he was off the hook of said buck-passing by enlightening me to the other buck-passing, or if he thought that by acknowledging his own buck-passing it rescinded him, but either way he offered yet another outlet to my complaint: my community board. mister dsny says that the plates need to get gone, then the po-po have to tag it, then sanitation can whisk the car off to the big garage in the sky.
step #5, cb 3
newsflash, apparently complaining to your local community board can be more effective than 311. find out your cb here:
http://www.nyc.gov/html/cau/html/cb/main.shtml here, i am greeted with the most preternaturally upbeat woman; so upbeat that i'm convinced she must be mocking me. i move past my paranoia and give all the details that i've repeated so many times that i may recite them in my sleep tonite. i am told that it's already 5pm [its 4:30pm] and that nothing can be done about it today, may she have my number. sure, why not. oh, what's that? my cell is no good to you with its boston area code because YOU DON'T HAVE LONG DISTANCE?! really?! wicked pissa. fine, take my office number then, whatever. can't wait to chat tomorrow, new besty!
le sigh.
to be cont.
UPDATE:
15 days later [and a few more phone calls] and its gone!
yer welcome.
