After all that, I still prefer to drive my own car

My recently work trip to NYC was an interesting, yet successful trip. Interesting because in a matter of 2.5 days, I managed to get 3 different cab drivers who completely made my trip worth it. And it was successful because I managed to not let anyone see me cry after I yelled at a UPS worker for not delivering my shipment on time.

So, as I type this entry I really do wish I had followed through with my original thought and taken a picture of the first cab driver that made my day. It was Monday night and I was taking a cab from dinner to the NYU campus to visit my dear friend, Alisa. The minute I got in the cab the "cabbie" (self-titled) blasted Madonna on the radio. He yelled back over the glass, "This is a Happy Cabbie! I am a happy cabbie! Are you happy?" I stared at him in amazement and decided I would totally play along. "Oh yea, I'm happy. I love a happy cabbie", I yelled back. I started jamming in my seat along to Madonna. For the next 15 minutes I bounced around to all the 80s music that my "happy cabbie" played. I thoroughly enjoyed it when he would roll down his windows and yell "happy cabbie!" to poor, unsuspecting people standing on the curb.

The best part about this cab ride was when we were stopped at a light and Happy Cabbie said, "Oh yea, look at that cabbie. He is not happy."

My next great cab experience was Tuesday when I had to grab a cab from my hotel to the convention center where I was working. This cab driver didn't say a word to me. However he, like my first cab driver, really liked 80s music. Tears for Fears was his band of choice. He sang along in a tone deaf manner and jammed in his seat like no on was watching. I sat there silently and when I got out I said, "Thank you for the ride. You keep on jammin'!" Cab driver #2 smiled and said, "Thanks, I will."

My third and final experience was after I raced back to my hotel, and by raced I mean I walked really fast, because I was pushing it close to possibly missing my flight.

Anyway, I got in the cab and said, "jfk, please", and we were off. I was sweating like a whore in church because I just "raced" in 90% humidity and my bangs were plastered to my forehead and I was exhausted and was now nervous I was going to miss my flight.

All of a sudden, my cab is winding it's way through Central Park. I am no expert at NYC coordinates, but in all my times to NYC, i don't ever recall driving through Central Park to get to the airport. I politely asked, "you are headed to JFK, right?" To which my cab driver responded, "Oh yes, I am just trying to avoid traffic. And I would also like to give you a enjoyable last memory of your time in New York." And to that, I thanked him and sat there in silence, listening to the peaceful classical music he had playing and enjoyed my last, great moment in NYC.