New Hope, PA

Jill and I went to New Hope, Pennsylvania, on Saturday afternoon to see The F Bombs play at John and Peter’s. The band was great. The trip could have been better.

It’s hard to park a car in New Hope. The cars are crammed along the curb a few fumes apart while nearby parking meters devour your dollars like Las Vegas slot machines. And if you’re one second late putting money in the meter, a SWAT team descends upon your vehicle and fires a fusillade of parking tickets at the windshield. Of course, you can always go into one of the parking lots and give up an internal organ in exchange for a parking space. I got a great deal—one kidney for three hours. I saw a guy who lost a couple of lungs. He must have been staying all day.

There are some cool little stores in New Hope, but it takes a while to see them because the narrow sidewalks are infested with turtle-paced people—except for the ones racing to put money in parking meters. And then there are the baby strollers. I remember when these contraptions were small. For some reason, they’re now larger than military vehicles. They have tires with alligator-tooth-sized treads, too, just in case you want to take the kid for a stroll in the Australian Outback or something.

There’s one store that sells swords and knives. Like most places that sell weapons, this establishment has a very “live free or die” vibe to it and that’s great because I’ve always wanted to be free to stab someone. Unfortunately, they have nothing to protect patrons from the Parking Police.

Screw you, New Hope. Screw you up the ass with the world’s biggest parking meter.