isolalienat
Being a YELLOW TAXI CAB driver in NEW YORK equals a happiness I haven't felt since I was a playground child. It erases conventional limitations and elicits meaning from its erratic surroundings like no other. The city breathes, wrestles, and implodes upon itself with each passing minute. Cabbies are perpetually engaged in its effervescence. Our immaculate sense of distance, space, and the intuition to know what split second decisions might be made by pedestrians and bicyclists. The way we shift lanes, left to right and back, accelerating and breaking with a 40mph range from one second to the next. Coming within inches of buses, trucks, and each other. Yet no collisions whatsoever. Zilch!
Like a cockroach whose nervous system allows it to dodge your every swat with no
thought processing, or sperm racing eggbound as seen through a microscope. A
four lane avenue might suddenly become a single lane, and it doesn't stop the
blood cells from flowing right past the clot. Driving in the city yields such
sensory stimulation overload, forcing me to pull over at any open gap to jot
down thoughts and ideas. That's when a customer might walk up, open the door,
step in, and say 3rd and 50th please, before returning to their cellular
conversation. I often make the mistake of assuming that they're still talking to
me. I respond wholeheartedly, only to find myself 'embarrassed' for interrupting
their call. Especially when they say, "good morning, how are you?"... but not to
me.
This trade might very well be the one with the most tricks. There's slick
solutions to every complication. Some that I can't even express out loud. The
main cause for jams and gridlock in NYC are motorists from out of town who
attempt to cross an intersection even though it's obvious that they won't clear
the box, hence blocking everyone with a newly green light. That's when 100 horns
go off, each with its own exclusive pitch, creating an orchestra of numbness.
Combating this involves jolting forward, cautiously yet assertively, the moment
the light switches to yellow on them.
Inconsiderate passengers take advantage of their backseat heating controls and
leave it blasting after they've exited. I'm prefer windows rolled down while the
cab is empty, since I'm wearing layers of warmth. I'm forced to park and squeeze
my head through the narrow partition slit to turn the damn thing off.
Some fascinating passengers have included a woman with multiple sclerosis on her
lunch break, trying to get a dozen errands done via taxi. Or the wealthy family
on their way to dad's panoramic office view in Midtown on Thanksgiving morning
for the big Macy's parade. We stop at a bakery so he can grab them breakfast and
there's this poor man stumbling down the sidewalk, crying. So I motion him over.
Says his apartment in the Bronx caught fire yesterday and his entire family's
homeless. The kids in my cab are stunned, but their mommy casually says,"oh
that's so sad" in a sarcastic tone. I jump out, hug, and hand him a Jefferson.
He stresses he's not a begger and refuses it. Does wealth have the power to make
people insensitive to human pain? Then there's the fancy young trench coat woman
on route to the Upper EastSide. She requests,"90th & Park, far right corner"
with outstanding insolence. I knew she was trouble from the get go. At the
destination there are 3 cars standing right where she wants off, so I float
ahead to the nearest vacancy. "Oh, MY GOD, I'm practically at 91st Street at
this point", she exclaims with disgust. She can't stand to walk 30 extra feet. I
almost dragon-fired her right out of my cab. The lack of worldly perspective on
some of these people. Outrageous! So many more passenger stories, good and bad
ones, I'll have to tell you face to face some day. Let me just leave you with
this last quick bit... every black passenger is so relieved to see a cab stop
for them with such effort, like from the opposite side of a busy street, the way
I have. Makes you wonder what they go through to catch one. Actually, I was late
to the work one morning, so I caught a cab to the taxi garage. On route the
cabbie shared all his suggestions with me on how to do things. On was to pretend
I don't see blacks when they hail me, and ignore white hailers on the same
block, so no one'll play the race card.
I've calculated my daily earnings and they're averaging out to around $15 an
hour. The other day I waited in the taxi lot at La Guardia Airport. Next to the
ocean of yellow cars I saw a snack stand with the same basic things as inside
the terminals, but for a small fraction of the price. This be a hint hint for
anyone hungry at an airport from now on. While waiting to move forward in line,
some cabbies were feeding pigeons. Others were gathered on their prayer rugs,
bowing before Allah. A scene of foreign serenity amidst this domestic flight hub.
Like a cockroach whose nervous system allows it to dodge your every swat with no
thought processing, or sperm racing eggbound as seen through a microscope. A
four lane avenue might suddenly become a single lane, and it doesn't stop the
blood cells from flowing right past the clot. Driving in the city yields such
sensory stimulation overload, forcing me to pull over at any open gap to jot
down thoughts and ideas. That's when a customer might walk up, open the door,
step in, and say 3rd and 50th please, before returning to their cellular
conversation. I often make the mistake of assuming that they're still talking to
me. I respond wholeheartedly, only to find myself 'embarrassed' for interrupting
their call. Especially when they say, "good morning, how are you?"... but not to
me.
This trade might very well be the one with the most tricks. There's slick
solutions to every complication. Some that I can't even express out loud. The
main cause for jams and gridlock in NYC are motorists from out of town who
attempt to cross an intersection even though it's obvious that they won't clear
the box, hence blocking everyone with a newly green light. That's when 100 horns
go off, each with its own exclusive pitch, creating an orchestra of numbness.
Combating this involves jolting forward, cautiously yet assertively, the moment
the light switches to yellow on them.
Inconsiderate passengers take advantage of their backseat heating controls and
leave it blasting after they've exited. I'm prefer windows rolled down while the
cab is empty, since I'm wearing layers of warmth. I'm forced to park and squeeze
my head through the narrow partition slit to turn the damn thing off.
Some fascinating passengers have included a woman with multiple sclerosis on her
lunch break, trying to get a dozen errands done via taxi. Or the wealthy family
on their way to dad's panoramic office view in Midtown on Thanksgiving morning
for the big Macy's parade. We stop at a bakery so he can grab them breakfast and
there's this poor man stumbling down the sidewalk, crying. So I motion him over.
Says his apartment in the Bronx caught fire yesterday and his entire family's
homeless. The kids in my cab are stunned, but their mommy casually says,"oh
that's so sad" in a sarcastic tone. I jump out, hug, and hand him a Jefferson.
He stresses he's not a begger and refuses it. Does wealth have the power to make
people insensitive to human pain? Then there's the fancy young trench coat woman
on route to the Upper EastSide. She requests,"90th & Park, far right corner"
with outstanding insolence. I knew she was trouble from the get go. At the
destination there are 3 cars standing right where she wants off, so I float
ahead to the nearest vacancy. "Oh, MY GOD, I'm practically at 91st Street at
this point", she exclaims with disgust. She can't stand to walk 30 extra feet. I
almost dragon-fired her right out of my cab. The lack of worldly perspective on
some of these people. Outrageous! So many more passenger stories, good and bad
ones, I'll have to tell you face to face some day. Let me just leave you with
this last quick bit... every black passenger is so relieved to see a cab stop
for them with such effort, like from the opposite side of a busy street, the way
I have. Makes you wonder what they go through to catch one. Actually, I was late
to the work one morning, so I caught a cab to the taxi garage. On route the
cabbie shared all his suggestions with me on how to do things. On was to pretend
I don't see blacks when they hail me, and ignore white hailers on the same
block, so no one'll play the race card.
I've calculated my daily earnings and they're averaging out to around $15 an
hour. The other day I waited in the taxi lot at La Guardia Airport. Next to the
ocean of yellow cars I saw a snack stand with the same basic things as inside
the terminals, but for a small fraction of the price. This be a hint hint for
anyone hungry at an airport from now on. While waiting to move forward in line,
some cabbies were feeding pigeons. Others were gathered on their prayer rugs,
bowing before Allah. A scene of foreign serenity amidst this domestic flight hub.