Where Are The Cops When You Need Them?

It was a quiet Memorial day in New York City, and we were on our way to Central Park to relax and people watch. It had all the makings of an uneventful day.


Let me set the stage for the unexpected!


The 72nd Street gateway to the park is one of the four main entrances permitting cars access during the week, but not on weekends and holidays.  So it is the perfect venue to sit on a park bench, kick back and enjoy the passing parade. 

On the other side of Fifth Avenue, the north side corner is occupied by one of the many ubiquitous street vendor push carts hawking unhealthy foods (or what passes for food these days) such as large salted pretzels, hot dogs, knishes, soft drinks and other delicacies guaranteed to add to the increase of obesity in our country. The sight of one of these carts always reminds me of a song sung by The Andrew Sisters.

The south corner is always occupied by a truck specializing in all types of ice cream delights. Just so you do not get the idea that I am 100% pure, I have tried some of the varieties and now have to resist the urge to purchase something whenever we pass this "truck of temptations." To digress for a moment, we have a store a two blocks from home that sells Tasti-delight. It is a product that contains no cholesterol, no fat and no calories, but somehow has a good taste. God only knows what we are ingesting!


Now that the stage has been set, let the story unfold.

Into this tranquil scene, suddenly a Yogurt truck appeared; made a quick U-turn and pulled up across the street from the ice cream truck. This put the interloper directly behind the hot dog guy and on the opposite side of the street from the ice cream vendor.

It was like watching an old time Western movie when the cow hands and farmers had range wars. Two people emerged from the ice cream truck and dashed across the street to confront the driver and his helper in the Yogurt truck. Voices were raised, fingers were pointed and things looked like they were really going to get ugly. The Yogurt guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. A cell phone was better than many of the alternatives known to be available in the City.

After a few minutes had passed, a police car with lights flashing and siren screaming came to a screeching halt pointing the wrong way on the street preventing the Yogurt truck from leaving the scene. A cop exited his car and entered into a heated discussion with the opposing parties. After a few moments, he went back to his car and things got quiet on the street. Before you knew it, not one, not two, but three more police cars pulled up. It was like a scene from the old time TV show, "Car 54, Where Are You?".


Now we had the four antagonists, five cops, and countless spectators involved in this nonsense. The Pretzel guy was doing a land office business and some of the cops were busy chomping away on his offerings.


It appeared that the police had come up with a Solomon like resolution to this problem. Both the Yogurt and ice cream truck would have to leave. The Yogurt guy did so immediately, but the ice cream vendor continued to discuss the matter with the police. Apparently the ice cream vendor gave in, mounted his truck and started to drive towards Madison Avenue ( the next block) where he made a left hand turn. There was no doubt in our minds that he would return as soon as the police left.


All but one of the police cars made an illegal "U" turn and left the scene of battle. The remaining car pulled into the space vacated by the ice cream truck and waited. Minutes passed, and sure enough the ice cream truck returned. Upon seeing the police car, he proceeded further up the block and found a place to wait. 


After some time had passed, the police car must have gotten another call as he left the scene. In no time at all, the ice cream truck pulled out of his parking spot and backed up to whence he came so long ago.


In no time, he was back in business and the area showed no signs of the confrontation.


Just another day in New York.