I took my first solo cab ride today.
I specify that it was a solo ride because I’ve gone in cabs with other people – three to be exact – and today I made the conscious decision to use the cab instead of the subway or my own feet.
Everyone who knows today was my first cab ride, because I’m lame enough to mention it as a thing to be proud of, is astonished that I haven’t really taken advantage of the cabs around here.
I mean, apart from the one we attempted to flag down on our way to dinner in the Lower East Side when it was raining, and thus impossible to get cabs, we haven’t even tried. Public transportation, for as potentially smelly or hot as it is, is everywhere and gets me everywhere I need to be, like MasterCard.
And I have to say, after these four cab rides, one solo, that they were … boring. Based on TV
shows and movies and just good ol’ word of mouth, I assumed my cab ride would be insanity punctuated by bouts of wishing for my death to come quickly with maybe a few moments of hanging out on two wheels, riding on the sidewalks and general death-defying hilarity.
Instead, I was tucked into the back of a cab with a guy who said maybe five words, drove very carefully through traffic that almost made me wish I had taken the subway – although I made it to my meeting in time anyway, so it didn’t really matter – and stopped smoothly on a busy corner. He didn’t slam on the brakes and lurch down the street and cut people off and give other drivers the finger and all those “typical” New York cabbie experiences you hear about.
And if you think I sound disappointed, you’d be right. I wanted the experience! I wanted to say I survived a crazy cab ride and consider it a rite of passage for living in New York, a la eating a great bagel or not reacting when a guy pees in a subway car (I failed at that one, but I’m sure I’ll get another chance).
It probably would have worked out if I had gotten into the unmarked white town car yesterday that pulled over when my coworker was trying to flag the one behind it. And by unmarked, I mean seriously – no lights n top, no plexiglass between the passengers and driver, no meter I could see… Although the license ate did say livery as it drove away when we rejected it. Hey, who knows where we would have ended up if we head taken that. Shudder.
I’m sure there will be another opportunity to live through a chaotic cab ride. Eight million people need a lot of cabs so I’m banking on getting one driven by a cabby with a flair for the dramatic.
And I’m not talking about the Cash Cab.
Fire to Ice 