There is always a first time…
I couldn’t count the amount of cabs I have been in if my life depended on it. It would be impossible. Last night I got into a cab going down Washington. I asked to go to Orchard between Stanton and Rivington. If a cab driver isn’t sure where they are going, I am happy to provide info when they seem perplexed or ask if they need help. The west village or the lower east side isn’t so easy if you aren’t familiar with the streets. This particular ride was a whole different story.
The cab driver asks me, how do you want to go? When they ask that, I usually say, which ever way you want. This guy takes a left hand turn and begins to cut across, going upward on Bank. I ask him, do you know where you are going? He says in a long drawn out gurgle, I’m trying to get to Houston. I ask, which way are you going, you are going up. He responds, I don’t know, I am going to figure it out. I have never done this in all my years as a NYer. I said, not with me and I got out of the cab, shut the door and grabbed the cab behind him. Good choice. I got to where I was going in ten minutes.
Funny enough, the entire episode made me feel like a real NYer.