at Mostly Books, on Broadway and Wilmot in Tucson.
Saturday, September 8 at 1:30.
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| Me and Sherry Roberts, of Mostly Books, a great independent bookstore in Tucson. |
I donated a few copies of my novel, This Moment Is My Home to the local library. Jeffrey Summers, librarian, was kind enough to pose with me for a photo. I complimented him on the shade of green hair he was sporting. He said, "I call it teal!" Not a shy person, Jeffrey.
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| Librarian Jeffrey Summers and I at the Miller-Golf Links branch of the Pima County Public Library |
TRUE TALES OF A NYC CAB DRIVER #4
A Creepy Guy
Driving. That's what the job of a cab driver is. Driving and watching for people who need a ride, watching the other traffic, jockeying for position in traffic. I learned quickly, mostly from imitating other cab drivers. Ever wonder why taxis straddle two lanes a lot of the time? It's annoying isn't it? It's because they want to be in the best position to maneuver, always looking for an advantage. I learned some good and bad habits from those days. I learned to look far ahead of my car and assess the situation. I learned to be aggressive, and to always be aware of what was happening all around my car, behind and on both sides. In Manhattan aggression and quick decision making are essential. All Manhattan drivers drive like that. If you don't take the opportunity before you, the next guy or gal will. Politeness only causes you delay and irritates the other drivers. You're expected to be aggressive. That's the way it is when you're driving amidst thousands of other drivers trying to get somewhere.
One of the things I learned early on was how to get from the east side to the west side of Manhattan as quickly as possible. That means knowing which streets are the main ones which allow traffic to flow more freely. You don't want to get bogged down in side streets, because one stopped car or truck on those one-way streets can keep you sitting for some time when there's only one lane. Getting cross town in the vicinity of Central Park is another challenge. You have to know which streets lead across the park. 96th street has a street which crosses through the park, but if you're going east to west the entrance is on 97th Street. If you don't know that you waste a lot of time going in circles.
One day crossing the park at 96th street with a fare I had an unnerving experience. I had picked up the passenger on the east side. I don't remember exactly where, but he wanted to go crosstown to the west side. I, being a friendly talkative type person, was doing my ususal, talking, asking questions, remarking about current politics, etc. Hey, it's the way I pass the time. The guy I was talking to didn't seem too forthcoming. In other words he was rather quiet, and I soon found that he didn't like what I was talking about. I may have been offering my opinion about the state of the human race, some of my liberal political views, I don't remember exactly.
As we were moving through the sunken roadway that passes through Central Park he started talking slowly and a little menacingly. He said, "You talk like you know me. But you don't know me. Maybe you should be more careful. For all you know I could be a dangerous person." I got quiet, glanced at him in the rearview mirror. There was something about the guy that was creepy. He was well groomed, dressed in a suit, , maybe in his thirties. But that told me little. He continued, "For instance, it wouldn't me much for me to put a little Beretta behind your ear. If I pulled the trigger you would feel a burning maybe, like a bee sting, not much more. And in a little while you'd be dead."
Well, what do you say to something like that? I shut up and drove the rest of the way across the park. When I let him out at the corner of Central Park West and 97th I turned off the meter and told him the amount of the fare and nothing else. He paid me and got out. I drove away fast, glad to be rid of the creep.
A Creepy Guy
Driving. That's what the job of a cab driver is. Driving and watching for people who need a ride, watching the other traffic, jockeying for position in traffic. I learned quickly, mostly from imitating other cab drivers. Ever wonder why taxis straddle two lanes a lot of the time? It's annoying isn't it? It's because they want to be in the best position to maneuver, always looking for an advantage. I learned some good and bad habits from those days. I learned to look far ahead of my car and assess the situation. I learned to be aggressive, and to always be aware of what was happening all around my car, behind and on both sides. In Manhattan aggression and quick decision making are essential. All Manhattan drivers drive like that. If you don't take the opportunity before you, the next guy or gal will. Politeness only causes you delay and irritates the other drivers. You're expected to be aggressive. That's the way it is when you're driving amidst thousands of other drivers trying to get somewhere.
One of the things I learned early on was how to get from the east side to the west side of Manhattan as quickly as possible. That means knowing which streets are the main ones which allow traffic to flow more freely. You don't want to get bogged down in side streets, because one stopped car or truck on those one-way streets can keep you sitting for some time when there's only one lane. Getting cross town in the vicinity of Central Park is another challenge. You have to know which streets lead across the park. 96th street has a street which crosses through the park, but if you're going east to west the entrance is on 97th Street. If you don't know that you waste a lot of time going in circles.
One day crossing the park at 96th street with a fare I had an unnerving experience. I had picked up the passenger on the east side. I don't remember exactly where, but he wanted to go crosstown to the west side. I, being a friendly talkative type person, was doing my ususal, talking, asking questions, remarking about current politics, etc. Hey, it's the way I pass the time. The guy I was talking to didn't seem too forthcoming. In other words he was rather quiet, and I soon found that he didn't like what I was talking about. I may have been offering my opinion about the state of the human race, some of my liberal political views, I don't remember exactly.
As we were moving through the sunken roadway that passes through Central Park he started talking slowly and a little menacingly. He said, "You talk like you know me. But you don't know me. Maybe you should be more careful. For all you know I could be a dangerous person." I got quiet, glanced at him in the rearview mirror. There was something about the guy that was creepy. He was well groomed, dressed in a suit, , maybe in his thirties. But that told me little. He continued, "For instance, it wouldn't me much for me to put a little Beretta behind your ear. If I pulled the trigger you would feel a burning maybe, like a bee sting, not much more. And in a little while you'd be dead."
Well, what do you say to something like that? I shut up and drove the rest of the way across the park. When I let him out at the corner of Central Park West and 97th I turned off the meter and told him the amount of the fare and nothing else. He paid me and got out. I drove away fast, glad to be rid of the creep.
MORE TRUE TALES OF A NYC CAB DRIVER #3
I Throw Some Ladies Out of my Cab
Manhattan is a vast labyrinth of streets, massive canyons of buildings, an endless grid of neighborhoods, and a warren-like network of streets in lower Manhattan that defy logic, not unlike parts of Boston. It took a while to learn the basics on the best ways to get cross town and up and downtown the most efficient ways.
Well, I was a cab driver with a few weeks under my belt, but was still learning the city. Three ladies got into my cab in midtown one afternoon, and gave me an address. I knew the general way to get there, but apparently not well enough to satisfy one of the ladies. One was very sweet and helpful, but one of them was a real handful. When I didn’t make a correct turn she started yelling. “Driver! Driver! Why didn’t you make a left at the light? You were supposed to make a left!” I was confused, said I was sorry. That didn’t mollify her in the least. She kept at me, “Driver! Driver! Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Oh! I’ve never seen such blatant incometence!”
I apologized again and told her I would take the next left and work my way to their destination. I told her that I was new and that I was still learning the city, and would appreciate any help. But she had decided that I was deliberately trying to lengthen their ride to make more money. Very loudly she said, “Oh, these drivers are all the same. They never get it right. It’s outrageous that we have to put up with it!”
I could hear her loud and clear, despite the plastic safety barrier between us, I heard words like "moron" and "swindled" and it got me angry. Their destination was less than a mile away, and it wouldn’t have cost them much more. I tried to apologize again, and asked for their patience. But she was determined to chastise me loudly to her two companions. She just wouldn’t stop, and I could hear every word. Even pointed comments from me didn’t stop her. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m not the perfect driver, but I’ll get you there. And I’ll forfeit the tip. Okay?”
Not good enough for her. The sweet one tried to get her friend to stop razzing me, to no avail. On and on it went, about how worthless and incompetent cab drivers were. I was thinking, do I really have to take all this verbal abuse? I’m really very polite and patient usually, but she just hit the right buttons. I took it for about seven more minutes, then I lost it. I veered to one side of the avenue and slammed on the brakes. I put the cab in park and shouted, “That’s it! Out! Get out!”
They all sat for a moment, too stunned to move. I turned off the meter, and yelled again, “Get out. There’s no charge. Just get out of my cab! Now! Move!” I was really pissed. They finally opened the door and filed out. The last lady, who was the sweet one, stopped before getting out and said to me, “I’m very sorry about this. My friend really had no right to be so rude. I do hope you’ll forgive us.”
I answered, “That’s all right. I just couldn’t stand it any more.” She said she understood and wanted to pay for the ride, even though I’d ended it prematurely. But I said it was okay, and thanked her for her good intentions. I wondered later, if the obnoxious woman had been drunk.
Anyway, I sat there for a moment, congratulating myself on getting shut of them. And what do you know? Three young men walked over asked if I’d take them to Brooklyn. “Sure!” I said, “Hop in!" They were fun guys, and we had a friendly long ride out of Manhattan, a good long fare. They even left me with a big tip. So the universe was rewarding me for my rightness of my actions.
Read an entertaining book that may help open you to the infinite within yourself: http://www.friesenpress.com/bookstore/title/119734000004420414/M.-H.-Anifantakis-This-Moment-Is-My-Home
