Last night we wandered down East Houston at about 10.45 pm. All was pretty much as you’d expect. 45 minutes later we walked back and came across this:
In the three quarters of an hour this car had, a few metres from our hotel, caught fire, and been gutted in a fairly dramatic way. There was no-one, either police or private, seemingly in charge of the charred wreck, which was pulling in fair number of camera phone toting late night wanderers.
An hour later we walked past and it was gone, with hardly a trace, apart from the remains of the back seat on the sidewalk. That too was gone this morning…not a marker as to what happened last night, in a fairly dramatic way, left.
I guess it makes a change from battling the incessant cold, or trying to work a way out of the Heavy Metal bar we found ourselves in, in Williamsburg, earlier in the evening, which was a very Pee Wee Herman moment.
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