My Taxi Cab Confessions...NYC

This City Girl with Southern Roots finally took to the BIG APPLE…and boy did it bite me in the aspirin. Aside from the great food, fun times, and wisdom I learned along the way (more later), I had some hard knock lessons in taking cabs.

Let’s see, I was thrown out of one cab at the direction of “You can go now.” On a return trip to my hotel I was told to “Gimme the money,” rudely by a cabbie. I was later yelled at by another one after I asked, “sir, what’s the $2.50 for?” “You pay! It’s the law!” I’m like---in my head---what law? I really don’t understand.” So I kindly point out to him that I’m from out of town, and I don’t understand the way cab fare works. After a few huffs, he then says, “You have to pay it!” I decided to then put my R.I.F. skills in motion and look for something written that explains it. Ah! On the back of his seat it reads, “An initial fee of $2.50 plus $0.40 per mile makes up your fare.” Okay. I’m fine by that, I just wanted to know.

Next, my money wasn’t any good in another, “You have bills? I don’t want this,” the cabbie said in response to my dollar coins I used for fare. It was all I had, so that’s what I used. What did I do to deserve this treatment? Nothing but be polite, saying thanking and asking for further knowledge. It was after all this madness I just decided to look into the eyes of the drivers lined up near the hotel and decide which I would get into. Once inside, I would say nothing and hand my portion of the cab fare as I have been sharing with some colleagues of mine during a conference. This worked out well.

As the universe would have it, the conference leaders gave me a platform to publicly discuss my disgust with the New York City cab drivers and I was told, finally, that riders had rights. You wouldn’t know it by the rude behavior displayed by my drivers. I was instructed to inform the drivers I could take down their numbers and report them. So, I put this theory into practice.

My conference day ended. It was time to catch, yet another cab. My colleagues and I get one. He shouts to us with a frowned brow. “Where you go?” We tried to tell him while getting in the cab. He shouts something else and pulls off with my colleague hanging on to the handle of the cab door. Another one comes and he says he’ll take us where we need to go.

”We have two stops. Drop her off at 53rd and 6th and us at Macy’s,” my co-worker instructed.

“Okay. I’ll drop you off at Macy’s and take her last,” the cabbie said.

“No that’s not what we said. We…blah! Blah! Blah! We can take down your number sir. Blah! Blah! Blah!” she responded.

“For what? What you gonna take down my number for.”

There was a lot of back and forth, but I remained calm and made a silent decision. God gave us choices and with hundreds of other cabs running along Broadway, we can find one who will appreciate our business. One of my pet peeves is when people don’t listen.
I wrote on my newspaper, “We can get out, ” and shared it with my colleagues. They agreed. And I politely said, “Sir, you can let us out on the corner there, thank you.” He seemed a little startled but obliged. $3.90 was the fare and we hopped out, but not before I wrote down his number. Less than 60 seconds later, we hopped in another one.
We remained quiet for a minute---literally and then commenced to speak among ourselves. The ice breaker for the entire cab was a celebrity citing. My co-worker was so excited that the cab driver began to give us a little history on the folks he’d seen and the day, he almost remembers exactly, when Spike Lee hopped in for a ride. I knew his spirit was genuine when he said, “You know, we are all equal.” He also talked about God and how he made sure his daughter, now in her 3rd year of medical school at the age of 19, was brought up to always know she was “somebody.”
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Haiti.”
“Cool.” I sat back in comfort in understanding that God has His way with the world when he sees fit.
The last forum discussed in my conference was about breaking barriers of cultural differences. In the grand scheme of things, we are all truly the same. Rich. Poor. Haitian. American. “We are all born and we all die,” the cabbie said. He also professed that no matter how much money you have, you can still be empty. He lost his wife some 8 years prior but he never forgot the time he lost his job and she laughed when he came home. She was happy because he was working so hard…and now he had a moment to relax. How about that…really…?
When it is our time to go, will we be most concerned that our dollar that wasn’t in paper? Or that we don’t know why we pay certain fees? Or that we really want somebody out of our space? Doubt it. I hope in that moment when the spotlight is on each of us, we will have given advice to someone that changed their life for the better. Initially, I included that cabbie’s number that I wrote down in this article. Just 10 seconds before writing this line, I highlighted it and hit delete. Now…I’m tossing the newspaper where it was written. It is not my place to judge. It is my place, however, to encourage each of you to enjoy your cab ride of life, slow down and continue to respect people even when they disrespect you. In the end, it will count.

In the words of the first woman I met in New York who’s camera was like mine…“Gotta Run!”

A. Brown Girl