GK: Every man needs to have his own garage, a place where you can keep stuff that you don't have to explain why (SS REVERB: I thought you threw that out a long time ago) ----- a place where a man can be free to work on stuff (SAWING, HAMMER, DRILL) that she didn't ask you to do ----- secret projects ----- (SS REVERB: What is going on out there?). And that is what a man misses in Manhattan. There is no place to hang out. (SHIP HORN) Until now. Pier 77. Formerly the terminal of the transatlantic Fredonia line, 1100 feet long, Pier 77 has been converted to garage space where (MAN AT EASE, SETTLING IN) you can keep tools and stuff and Mason jars full of nuts and bolts and a big ratty old easy chair with holes in the cushions (SPRINGS SQUEAK) and an ashtray for when you feel that need. And if you feel the need to hawk and spit, you just open up the window and the Hudson River is right there. (SFX) It's the garage you've dreamed of owning.
TR: Can I keep a car in my garage on Pier 77?
GK: No, it's not for cars. You park your car on the street. These garages are for your stuff.
TR: Oh. Okay. Is smoking okay?
GK: Smoking is required at Pier 77. Cigars preferably. No need to inhale but you keep one burning in the ashtray. The smoke keeps the cockroaches away. (SS REVERB: You're not smoking out there, are you?)
GK: They are smoking out there and they are enjoying time alone with their stuff (MAN ARRANGING STUFF) and they are opening up the window and spitting into the wind (SFX) and they are dreaming the ancient dreams of men.
FN:
I must go down to the sea again
To the lonely sea and sky,
And all I ask is to own a garage
For me, myself, and I.
(SHIP HORN)
GK: Pier 77. Garages start at $125,000.
(STEEL GUITAR BUTTON)