Dominican Pride should not keep me from getting to my own home

Today, as you may or may not know, was the day of the Dominican Pride parade in Midtown. When I first learned of this event on Thursday as cops were posting "no parking" signs all over my block, I thought it sounded pretty neat. Living on a parade street should be exciting, no?

Well, silly me.

Our street was the staging area for the parade, which meant that starting at 8 AM there was music blasting. It also meant that once the parade was over, the street was quite literally covered in trash.

But the most egregious crime, in my opinion, was that I couldn't get to my apartment upon returning from my audition. I had to walk all around the block before I could find a policeman who would let me onto my own street. And worse yet, they wouldn't let Dan onto the street until the parade was over because his license doesn't have our address on it yet and so he couldn't prove he lived here.

This was irritating.

I mean, I think parades are great. Who doesn't love a good parade? I was only mildly miffed when I had to walk an extra ten blocks on the way home from the grocery store because of the Gay Pride parade. But this was ridiculous. Everyone and their brother who was involved with this parade was allowed onto my street, but Dan couldn't get home? 

I'm pretty sure that if anyone tried to organize a "Caucasion Pride" parade in the middle of Harlem and wouldn't let the residents of the streets get to their homes, someone would get shot. 

I'm all for parades in my neighborhood, but if I can't get to my own home because of one, that's just ridiculous.