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