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Catch A Cab

We had been walking for about forty-five minutes, making our way from Manhattan’s South Street Seaport to the Macy’s flagship store on 34th Street. When we were within fifteen blocks of our destination, some of my companions decided that we should complete our journey by cab. Despite my attempts to convince them to keep walking, they were insistent. The trip that ensued was a true New York experience.

After a few minutes of trying, one of my companions was able to hail a cab. However, we wanted to go north. The cab that stopped was going south. It did not seem to matter, though, as my companions still got in the cab. One person sat in the front while I slipped into the backseat, between the other two. Hardly before the doors could close, the driver had fought his way into Manhattan traffic. Without warning, he took a sharp right turn onto a side street and began to head north, steadily increasing his speed. Within seconds, the cab was weaving and darting around the other cars, the driver cursing the entire way. Halted by the unexpected change of a midtown traffic light, the cab came within mere inches of hitting a pedestrian. This, it seems, only caused the driver to curse more vehemently. From the first turn, my companions had grabbed my knees, as if to steady themselves. By this time, their grips had tightened, their nails digging into my legs out of complete fear. Another razor sharp turn and we were at our destination on 34th Street. The four of us got out of the car, paid the driver and made our way into Macy’s, still a bit shaken. A few hours later, as we left Macy’s bound for our hotel, I insisted that we walk . . . and not get a cab. This time, my traveling companions did not argue.

That day, I had attempted to allow my friends to experience New York. And, they did. Only, it was not the way I - nor they - had planned.

Comments

  1. The only cabbie I've ever experienced in NYC would flip open a newspaper at every stoplight. It was automatic. Sometimes we would only be at the light for a few seconds but he would still read.

    He also used the painted lane lines as more of a rough guide than strict instructions.

    ReplyDelete

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