I Hailed My First Cab Today
I've been to New York City countless times, but it wasn't until today that I hailed my first taxi cab. Truth be told, I was a little nervous. There's a certain oomph one has to have to hail a cab . . . Confidence, chutzpah -- that sort of thing.
Well, I didn't have either of those. I nervously stood in the bike lane and tried to spy an empty cab. After nearly getting run over by a guy on a bike, I crossed the street and thought maybe I'd have better luck over there, away from the bike lane. To my dismay, I found myself in the bus lane. "Great," I thought. "Now I'll get run over by a bus." Here lies Sara. Because she got hit by a bus. When all she had to do was hail a cab.
I was determined to get one, so I did my best to stand away from the sidewalk -- but not too far into the bus lane -- and stick my arm into the air like I was raising my hand in class. I didn't see an empty cab, but at that point, I didn't care. I made my suitcase as obvious as I could, and I emphatically looked at my watch, even though I knew what time it was. "Surely, it's clear I need to make it to the airport!" Boy, was it! It worked! A cab stopped! Just for me!
In my rush to claim the cab, I opened the door and threw my suitcase in, without even first telling the driver where I needed to go. He looked at me quizzically, and I stated with authority, "I need to get to JFK." For almost the rest of the trip, I stared out the window in silence. That, combined with the harsh and hardened look of my fake leather jacket, made him think I was from New York. Ha! I fooled him!
Thing I'm thankful for: having two seats on the plane all to myself