Taxi Vignettes

I liked this blog that I happened onto Taxi Vignettes. I've often thought of driving a car or cab... I'd be good at it because I CARE about the people I have in the car (hint, hint, brother dear) and I know I have a terrific sense of direction (just like Dad -- Mom is a self-proclaimed "BooBoo" when it comes to N/E/W/S). I'd get to meet a variety of people, that's for sure, guess what, you get to sit on your ass and listen to music too... but practicality and other people's safety warnings ("You can't do that, you're a girl!") got in the way...

I do know that when when I lived in NY I loved getting in a cab -- it was a safe private haven from the chaos on the frickin' street. It was also a nice place to make out... if you've got someone in the car who wants you more than caring about what a cabbie thinks. (That would be yes for Tom, no for Gil.)

But boy, when I was down, my god, there was a human being there to talk to. When I left NY from a terrible visit with Tom, a cabby picked me up only a few feet from his apartment (I thought I was gonna walk a bit to Riverside, but the cab got to me first). We had a long ride from 101st to Grand Central, but as soon as I got my butt onto the seat I started heaving and bawling...

He was a nice older Jewish fellow I think -- or Indian or Pakistani (yeah, I know, how could I mix those up... I just remember he wasn't European, African or Asian). I told him I knew this was goodbye for me and this fellow, that I was going back to LA and that it wasn't going to work out.

"That only means there's someone else that's supposed to be for you, that's all."

That was no comfort. I wanted TOM, and I wanted the life I thought I was gonna have again in NY. WITH TOM.

But he continued: "And now that this guy is out of the way, the right one -- well, he'll be able to find you now."

Hmmm.

"A pretty lady like you."

Ah, flattery will get you EVERYwhere...

By the time I got to the shuttle to get to Kennedy, I was in such a good place I even surprised myself. No longer sniffling, and a little bit relieved to go be going home. An expectation and dream was dashed... but I now felt full of hope. And hell, I was going on a long trip alone again... wasn't it just four (4!) days ago on the red-eye LA to NY that I met the French chef from Bora Bora, BRUNO the 1st? Okay... another story for another post -- definitely. (LOL ;)

So anyhoo, THAT, my friends, was a cabbie worth his weight in gold (or at least in the tip I gave him). I love when I get to meet "angels on earth" like that!

I'm gonna keep Ms. Cabbie on my list :)

P.S. Tom said he was often with "fallen Catholics" -- but he dreamed of marrying a nice Jewish girl. I thought I could be that... well, I'm worked that one out now (NO WAY -- fallen as I am, I'm still Catholic.) Presently, he's in Israel in rabbinical school -- and that "right guy" must still be on the other side of the planet...