Hey, Taxi!

For the past month or so, I have this fantasy about my time in New York. I’m heading somewhere uptown and decide to hail a cab. I climb inside and tell the driver my destination. Suddenly I hear a sharp blast of sound and the roof of the cab lights up – I’m on Cash Cab!

I can’t tell you how much I’d like to appear on this show. Cash Cab is a game show on the Discovery Channel in which unsuspecting riders are asked general interest questions as they travel to their destination. The further they go, the more money they can win. But if they miss three questions. They’re back out on the street again.

And man, I love it. I love the ambush when they first get into the cab—some folks have great surprised faces. I love seeing the cab travel down streets and past shops I recognize. And there’s not the sort of filter that a show like Jeopardy! has -- all sorts of people hail cabs. Salesmen, stoners, professors, club-hoppers – anyone can play. Some do surprisingly well. (I was thrilled when a guy and his teen daughter took a ride, and she was the one who knew Alexander Hamilton wrote The Federalist Papers. Put that in yer pipe and smoke it, “kids today are stupid” crowd!) Others, not so much. Some people tank three questions in a row, which is its own kind of fun.

We watch a lot of serial TV at our house. Plenty of dramas have ongoing stories, and sitcoms like The Office and 30 Rock do it as well. So it’s a treat to have this show in our rotation, ready to play we need some lightweight fun.

Rob

The Shortest Distance Between Two Points

So last night, I was hailing a cab to go into Hell’s Kitchen to meet a friend at a bar (more on that later). A woman was also hailing a cab on the same street, and even though there was some distance between where we were heading, she suggested we share it. Sounded good to me, as cabs weren’t that easy to find.

Riding uptown, she asked what I did for a living. I told her I was an editor, and asked her the same. She said, and I quote: “I’m in ladies’ intimate apparel.”

“Oh, really?”

Sadly, that was the best I could come up with – “Oh really,” with a little bit of insinuendo spinning on it. Immediately afterward, I thought of better responses:

“Under all that, you mean?”

“Must be chilly in this weather.”

Or, my personal fave,

“What a coincidence – so am I.”

So Barbara, wherever you are, good luck on your trip to Milwaukee to sell lingerie and pajamas to Target. But most of all, thanks for sharing a cab with me. We went a little out of my way, but that was still one hell of a straight line.

Rob

Taxicab Revelations

A quick story before I leave for Vegas.

This weekend, Kathy & I met up with our friends Mike and Jessica (see, Mike – here’s your name!) in NYC. It was raining, so we hopped a cab from their hotel to the restaurant (Sushi Samba, where we had a delicious meal and dropped quite a bit of money doing it – but I’m getting ahead of myself).

I got in the cab in the front seat. The cabbie—a wiry latino guy wearing a bandana with skulls on it—quickly moved a backpack on the seat and said “hold on, hold on, watch the bag.” After the bag was set in the foot area, I got into the car. We started moving. Here’s a little play of our exchange.

Cabbie: I didn’t mean to yell, I just didn’t want it to go boom, y’know?

Me: uh…

Cabbie: It’s not a bomb or nothing, I’m not a terrorist, no way. I’ve got a license for it.

Me: Sure, I understand.

What I understood was that there was a loaded gun at my feet.

So we drive around a bit – Mapquest gave us the wrong address – when the windows start to fog. I crack mine open a bit. The cabbie turns on the defogger and tells me to roll up the window, rain was getting in. I say (although a little voice tells me there’s risk in this joke, but what the hell): “I wouldn’t want to make a man moist.”

The cabbie stops the cab. “What’d you say?” The driver fishes for the cab license and shows me the picture. “Look here, look here – what do you see?”

I get a brief look at the cabbie’s picture, under the name Valentine. I’m not sure what I see.

“That’s right, all woman.”

Holy crap. I get it now. I’ve insulted this woman. I’ve insulted this woman, and she’s got a gun.

She says “You want a squeeze? Your wife is here, or else I’d tell you to feel ’em,” indicating her breasts. “I made a guy feel ‘em once – he made the same mistake. His girlfriend was in the car, and she kept quiet, but I know he got hell later.”

Mike, Jessica & Kathy are cracking up in the back. Me, I’m just mortified.

Val assured me it was okay, and there were no hard feelings. Then she started telling us about people having sex behind her cab. “I think they were trying to shock me,” she said. “I just pushed the mirror away.” She was really friendly and chatty, especially considering my mistake.

She let us off at the restaurant, I paid her, and we’ll never see her again. But I don’t expect to hear the end of this anytime soon.

Rob