6:04 p.m.—After 51 minutes at the mouth of the Tunnel-repeat: 51 minutes—a saintly man in a Ford pickup allows me to merge ahead of him. I enter the Tunnel, bound for Manhattan, having traversed three quarters of a mile in the previous hour.
6:14 p.m.—I pass the Apple Bank for Savings—whose time-and-temperature marquee reads 94�—and pull into the Avis garage, 31 hours and 17 minutes after departing it. "Welcome back," said one of the attendants. "Was everything satisfactory?"
"Perfect," I lied. Then I shot from the car as if catapulted, leaving my silhouette in sweat on the seat back.