Date: 11 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 24
Hours: 3:15-6:45pm
Rides Given: 6
My project last Saturday night was to charge decent prices for my rides - at the very least, $1 per uptown/downtown block. I did adhere to this rule - I also set myself to JUST SAY NO to destinations above 59th Street - and I must say, both decisions worked in my favor. Also it was a busy night (one of the busiest of the year), so I could afford to be picky.
To combat anomie, I checked in with Gregg regularly and worked with him on a "family" goal, as it were. It helped to feel like I had an ally - someone to share the good news with, when I got rides, or look to for help in a dry spell.
I set a personal record for most lucrative ride ever ($50 to take a family from 7th Ave in the low 40s to 18th & Park). I also made quite a bit more per hour than I usually do.
Success, yes? Quite a turnaround!
And then I gallivanted off to a couple parties in Brooklyn (by subway), didn't eat a proper dinner, did drink a few glasses of "mistletoe punch," stayed up late, failed to sleep in the next day...and developed a nasty sore throat that's sidelined me for the time being. This afternoon it was hurting my throat just to ride a bike in the cold. So, we'll see. Number one priority is getting fully well. Once that happens, I'll reassess my attachment to the saddle, and the streets.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
An Uphill Battle
Date: 10 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 23
Hours: 5:00-7:30pm
Rides Given: 1
I am not even going to pretend that I made any progress today towards correcting yesterday's problem. But at least I have positively identified the problem, to wit, not charging enough.
Tonight I pulled a lady off the Penn Station line who was going to 80th between 1st and 2nd. Since I think it's of the utmost importance to spit out a price instantly (so people think I'm legitimate? so they don't have time to reconsider?), I told her $25. A second later, a businessman rushed up to me, wanting a ride, and I had to (chose to?) tell him no, because the lady was already heading towards me. Usually, self-selecting passengers are going short distances; chances are he was not going nearly as far as she was.
In any case - partly because of how traffic is in Midtown during rush hour, and partly because I made the mistake of taking 58th Street east from 6th Avenue - the trip took me an hour and ten minutes. JFC! I thought I was fine with it, right after dropping my passenger off, but as I rolled down Park and then 5th, not getting a ride, I did grow increasingly demoralized.
So. New plan. Pricing therapy. Think before you quote. If you need to spit out a quote quickly, at the very least charge $1 per uptown/downtown block. Tomorrow, try that. And maybe if you can actually get decently compensated for your work, you'll get all jazzed about doing it again.
Another idea that might help: Imagine someone else were giving the ride. Imagine you were getting work for a friend, and you wanted to make sure that person, whose time and energy you value deeply, was generously - or at least adequately - paid.
What can I say? Morgen ist ein neuer tag. (Tomorrow is another day.)
Day of Chronicles: 23
Hours: 5:00-7:30pm
Rides Given: 1
I am not even going to pretend that I made any progress today towards correcting yesterday's problem. But at least I have positively identified the problem, to wit, not charging enough.
Tonight I pulled a lady off the Penn Station line who was going to 80th between 1st and 2nd. Since I think it's of the utmost importance to spit out a price instantly (so people think I'm legitimate? so they don't have time to reconsider?), I told her $25. A second later, a businessman rushed up to me, wanting a ride, and I had to (chose to?) tell him no, because the lady was already heading towards me. Usually, self-selecting passengers are going short distances; chances are he was not going nearly as far as she was.
In any case - partly because of how traffic is in Midtown during rush hour, and partly because I made the mistake of taking 58th Street east from 6th Avenue - the trip took me an hour and ten minutes. JFC! I thought I was fine with it, right after dropping my passenger off, but as I rolled down Park and then 5th, not getting a ride, I did grow increasingly demoralized.
So. New plan. Pricing therapy. Think before you quote. If you need to spit out a quote quickly, at the very least charge $1 per uptown/downtown block. Tomorrow, try that. And maybe if you can actually get decently compensated for your work, you'll get all jazzed about doing it again.
Another idea that might help: Imagine someone else were giving the ride. Imagine you were getting work for a friend, and you wanted to make sure that person, whose time and energy you value deeply, was generously - or at least adequately - paid.
What can I say? Morgen ist ein neuer tag. (Tomorrow is another day.)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Below Freezing
Date: 9 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 22
Hours: 4:30-6:30pm
Rides Given: 1
My one ride today was a surreal experience: An Ivana Trump type in ankle-length fur flagged me down at 34th and 7th. She wanted to go to Barami. She knew it was up 7th Avenue, but she didn't know how far up. She kept gesturing up 7th as if ought to just go that way! I guess where she comes from they don't have one-way streets. Anyway - the upshot was she wanted me to wait for her while she shopped so I could then ferry her and her copious purchases to the Hilton at 53d and 6th. So I did wait - about twice as long as she'd originally asked - and did take her to the Hilton. She hadn't asked for a price up front, so as I was riding up 6th I was pondering what to charge her. Though I knew the average pedicab driver would ask far more, I settled on $30 as an appropriate price. As it happened, neither of us ever said a word about the price - and she gave me $30.
That was decent, I suppose - $30 for an hour of my time (better than I do at my day job). But then I kept getting women telling me they wanted a "warm car," or it was too cold, and I got demoralized and decided to make one last short circuit up 6th and down 7th and then head back to the depot. Midway between 7th and 8th on 31st, at the crosswalk, a damn taxi honked at me, a millisecond after the light turned green. I yelled very loud and gave him the finger. Don't those dudes know that honking at someone not sealed inside a metal box is an act of war? An assault on the ears? And to what purpose? I probably made it to the intersection of 8th and 31st before he did. Sure, if we were out on the Great Plains I'd be eating his dust. But, guess what? There aren't any stop lights on the Great Plains. Or pedestrians. Or traffic jams. (Maybe every once in a while you run into a herd of buffalo crossing the road, which simulates the experience of all three.) So, Mr. Taxi Driver, take a chill pill. Move your fingers away from the panic button. You won't get where you're going any faster by making war on me.
Day of Chronicles: 22
Hours: 4:30-6:30pm
Rides Given: 1
My one ride today was a surreal experience: An Ivana Trump type in ankle-length fur flagged me down at 34th and 7th. She wanted to go to Barami. She knew it was up 7th Avenue, but she didn't know how far up. She kept gesturing up 7th as if ought to just go that way! I guess where she comes from they don't have one-way streets. Anyway - the upshot was she wanted me to wait for her while she shopped so I could then ferry her and her copious purchases to the Hilton at 53d and 6th. So I did wait - about twice as long as she'd originally asked - and did take her to the Hilton. She hadn't asked for a price up front, so as I was riding up 6th I was pondering what to charge her. Though I knew the average pedicab driver would ask far more, I settled on $30 as an appropriate price. As it happened, neither of us ever said a word about the price - and she gave me $30.
That was decent, I suppose - $30 for an hour of my time (better than I do at my day job). But then I kept getting women telling me they wanted a "warm car," or it was too cold, and I got demoralized and decided to make one last short circuit up 6th and down 7th and then head back to the depot. Midway between 7th and 8th on 31st, at the crosswalk, a damn taxi honked at me, a millisecond after the light turned green. I yelled very loud and gave him the finger. Don't those dudes know that honking at someone not sealed inside a metal box is an act of war? An assault on the ears? And to what purpose? I probably made it to the intersection of 8th and 31st before he did. Sure, if we were out on the Great Plains I'd be eating his dust. But, guess what? There aren't any stop lights on the Great Plains. Or pedestrians. Or traffic jams. (Maybe every once in a while you run into a herd of buffalo crossing the road, which simulates the experience of all three.) So, Mr. Taxi Driver, take a chill pill. Move your fingers away from the panic button. You won't get where you're going any faster by making war on me.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Winter Blues?
Date: 4 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 21
Hours: 2:00-3:45pm, 4:30-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
Today I made the mistake of getting all googly-eyed over the potential bonanza of a Saturday during the Christmas season, and hit the streets at the excessively early hour of 2:00pm. Ugh! I got one ride, from 6th Avenue in the 30s up to 14 West 57th, and then nothing for the next hour. So I went home, cogitated in my journal, ate lunch, ate crack, listened to "Children of the Lord" (by Slim Cessna's Auto Club) at top volume, and - pumped up by the crack and the music - went out again.
4:30-6:00pm was pretty good. I took three ladies to the tree, then a single lady crosstown on 53d Street, and then - wonder of wonders - a mother in Times Square flagged me down to take her three kids to their home at 57th and Park. She entrusted me with her children! She wasn't even in the cab with them - she gave them money to pay me when we got there. I have to say, I was flattered.
Later on I unwittingly gave a ride to more than three people - I didn't notice till the family was getting out at Bryant Park that there were two small children, not one. (The second child was very small.) I'm glad I didn't know. If I had I would have been anxious. As it was, I was just workin' hard to carry the weight.
So. Still in the doldrums, despite no plastic affixed to the cabin today. Just not very jazzed. Perhaps my verve will return, and perhaps it won't. Perhaps pedicabbing, like running, is only fun for me after I haven't done it in a while.
T+T+O+T+O
Day of Chronicles: 21
Hours: 2:00-3:45pm, 4:30-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
Today I made the mistake of getting all googly-eyed over the potential bonanza of a Saturday during the Christmas season, and hit the streets at the excessively early hour of 2:00pm. Ugh! I got one ride, from 6th Avenue in the 30s up to 14 West 57th, and then nothing for the next hour. So I went home, cogitated in my journal, ate lunch, ate crack, listened to "Children of the Lord" (by Slim Cessna's Auto Club) at top volume, and - pumped up by the crack and the music - went out again.
4:30-6:00pm was pretty good. I took three ladies to the tree, then a single lady crosstown on 53d Street, and then - wonder of wonders - a mother in Times Square flagged me down to take her three kids to their home at 57th and Park. She entrusted me with her children! She wasn't even in the cab with them - she gave them money to pay me when we got there. I have to say, I was flattered.
Later on I unwittingly gave a ride to more than three people - I didn't notice till the family was getting out at Bryant Park that there were two small children, not one. (The second child was very small.) I'm glad I didn't know. If I had I would have been anxious. As it was, I was just workin' hard to carry the weight.
So. Still in the doldrums, despite no plastic affixed to the cabin today. Just not very jazzed. Perhaps my verve will return, and perhaps it won't. Perhaps pedicabbing, like running, is only fun for me after I haven't done it in a while.
T+T+O+T+O
Friday, December 3, 2010
Rearranging My Reasons to Ride
Date: 3 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 20
Hours: 3:45-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
It seems that I have hit a sort of doldrums in my pedicabbing career: I'm no longer so new at it that simply getting a few rides is a thrill - and I'm not yet so skilled (or confident in my pricing) that I rake in delicious amounts of money every night. Frankly, I feel a bit daunted when I set a monetary goal higher than a hundred bucks. But then I feel like I'm copping out if I don't set a higher goal, given that this is the busiest time of the year. Perhaps if I raise my expectations more gradually I'll manage to take advantage of the bounty in the streets without driving myself batty.
Another detractor from my store of enthusiasm may be the fact that I've affixed a plastic shield to my pedicab - to protect my passengers from the cold - the past couple nights. It may be that it makes the ride more attractive to some prospects, but it also makes it harder to carry on a conversation. Sometimes I don't feel like talking, but often I do, and not being able to prevents the sort of energy exchange that helps me get high on riding. My last two passengers, who flagged me down outside the Sheraton, actually asked me to remove the plastic, so they could see the sights better on their way to Rosie O'Grady's. (Note to self: When coming from the northwest, drop passengers for Rosie O'Grady's at the corner of 7th and 46th. Do not attempt to get them right to the door. You will end up taking the scenic route, and hitting yourself.)
It may be also that something simply needs to change. I make the mistake, often, of expecting patterns that have served me for a while to continue to serve. In truth, I need to re-pattern fairly regularly, to keep myself jazzed. Maybe I need a new strategy, a new challenge, a new thought about what I'm doing out there in Midtown.
And now for the upbeat events of the evening:
1. I was having some problems with my knees, so I've started standing up on the pedals when starting from a stop with passengers in the back. That has occasioned some serious rearranging of cells in my quadriceps - and seems to have relieved my knees of their difficulties. So no more worries about crippling myself for the cause.
2. On my first turn past Penn Station, on the 8th Avenue side, the line minder told me to go ahead and hit the line - I'd probably get a ride, since it was very long at the time. What a wonderful thing, to be encouraged in my quixotic pursuit by a guardian of transportation orthodoxy! The line was indeed long and I did indeed get a ride - a spiffily dressed lady going to the London Hotel on 54th between 6th and 7th. When we got there she said, "You drive so carefully!" (Yes, she meant it as a compliment - and I took it as such. Safety first!)
3. When I first started pedicabbing I felt that my tendency towards rule-following - my desire to do everything exactly right - was a hindrance, since the general bad-ass pedicab-driver attitude towards traffic laws seemed to be, "If they get in your way, break 'em." Now that the cops are handing out tickets like candy canes, I see the advantages of knowing the laws and obeying them. I actually seem to be getting over my ticket phobia, because I do feel that though capricious and crackdown ticketing does happen, I at least have some measure of control over whether I end up with love notes from the men in navy.
So...that's the news from the trike lane: Where all the legs are strong, all the blinkers are working, and business - we hope - is about to rise above average.
T+T+(Z+A)+P+Y
Day of Chronicles: 20
Hours: 3:45-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
It seems that I have hit a sort of doldrums in my pedicabbing career: I'm no longer so new at it that simply getting a few rides is a thrill - and I'm not yet so skilled (or confident in my pricing) that I rake in delicious amounts of money every night. Frankly, I feel a bit daunted when I set a monetary goal higher than a hundred bucks. But then I feel like I'm copping out if I don't set a higher goal, given that this is the busiest time of the year. Perhaps if I raise my expectations more gradually I'll manage to take advantage of the bounty in the streets without driving myself batty.
Another detractor from my store of enthusiasm may be the fact that I've affixed a plastic shield to my pedicab - to protect my passengers from the cold - the past couple nights. It may be that it makes the ride more attractive to some prospects, but it also makes it harder to carry on a conversation. Sometimes I don't feel like talking, but often I do, and not being able to prevents the sort of energy exchange that helps me get high on riding. My last two passengers, who flagged me down outside the Sheraton, actually asked me to remove the plastic, so they could see the sights better on their way to Rosie O'Grady's. (Note to self: When coming from the northwest, drop passengers for Rosie O'Grady's at the corner of 7th and 46th. Do not attempt to get them right to the door. You will end up taking the scenic route, and hitting yourself.)
It may be also that something simply needs to change. I make the mistake, often, of expecting patterns that have served me for a while to continue to serve. In truth, I need to re-pattern fairly regularly, to keep myself jazzed. Maybe I need a new strategy, a new challenge, a new thought about what I'm doing out there in Midtown.
And now for the upbeat events of the evening:
1. I was having some problems with my knees, so I've started standing up on the pedals when starting from a stop with passengers in the back. That has occasioned some serious rearranging of cells in my quadriceps - and seems to have relieved my knees of their difficulties. So no more worries about crippling myself for the cause.
2. On my first turn past Penn Station, on the 8th Avenue side, the line minder told me to go ahead and hit the line - I'd probably get a ride, since it was very long at the time. What a wonderful thing, to be encouraged in my quixotic pursuit by a guardian of transportation orthodoxy! The line was indeed long and I did indeed get a ride - a spiffily dressed lady going to the London Hotel on 54th between 6th and 7th. When we got there she said, "You drive so carefully!" (Yes, she meant it as a compliment - and I took it as such. Safety first!)
3. When I first started pedicabbing I felt that my tendency towards rule-following - my desire to do everything exactly right - was a hindrance, since the general bad-ass pedicab-driver attitude towards traffic laws seemed to be, "If they get in your way, break 'em." Now that the cops are handing out tickets like candy canes, I see the advantages of knowing the laws and obeying them. I actually seem to be getting over my ticket phobia, because I do feel that though capricious and crackdown ticketing does happen, I at least have some measure of control over whether I end up with love notes from the men in navy.
So...that's the news from the trike lane: Where all the legs are strong, all the blinkers are working, and business - we hope - is about to rise above average.
T+T+(Z+A)+P+Y
Thursday, December 2, 2010
My First Day of Christmas
Date: 2 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 19
Hours: 4:45-7:30pm
Rides Given: 4
I spent the first part of today's session regaining confidence in my ability to drive safely. After giving my first couple rides, and making contact with nary an object besides the road, I felt fine about that.
The Christmas season is upon us! The tree lighting at Rockefeller Center happened on Tuesday, the police are out corraling street-crossers with caution tape at 6th Avenue in the high 40s/low 50s, some stretches of bike lane have been appropriated by pine-pushers - and Midtown is indeed busier than it has been. At least, this evening, I found it to be so between about 4:45 and 6:30. That's when I got all my rides. And I only had to solicit one set of passengers - the other three approached me! After 6:30, however, I scared up not a single fare, in two circuits of 6th & 7th Avenues. And I was very very hungry. So I decided to head home.
Now that I've turned off the WiFi-search function on my iPhone, it's become a hell of a lot more useful for finding locations my passengers need to get to. Google maps is now quick enough that I can type in a destination such as "disney store" or "sardi's," and get a pin dropped, at a red light. Today I even managed to confirm the location of the theatre where Chicago was playing, by iPhone. First I typed in "chicago" - and was told that "Walking directions could not be found between those two locations." Then I typed in "chicago musical" and voila! There it was! 49th between 8th and Broadway. In this case my passengers had already given me this information, but I was agonizing over whether to drop them at the corner of 49th and 8th or go up to 50th and then back down Broadway so I could drop them right in front of the theatre. Since Google maps indicated the theatre was none too close to 8th, I chose to go up and around. The advantage to me of going right up to the theatre is that now I'll be sure to remember precisely where it is and how to get there.
Speaking of knowing where things are: This evening I picked up two ladies, on 6th Avenue in the high 30s. One of them said they were going to 44th Street. "44th and 6th?" I asked. "Actually," she said, "we're going to Sardi's." Since I had taken a passenger there once before, I was able to say, with confidence, "That's a bit farther over. I can get you there." And I could! And I did! And when we arrived she told me that they hadn't been able to find a taxi driver who knew where they were going! So my slow but steady gathering of knowledge of New York night spots is paying off. May it swell with the season.
P+Y+T+U
Day of Chronicles: 19
Hours: 4:45-7:30pm
Rides Given: 4
I spent the first part of today's session regaining confidence in my ability to drive safely. After giving my first couple rides, and making contact with nary an object besides the road, I felt fine about that.
The Christmas season is upon us! The tree lighting at Rockefeller Center happened on Tuesday, the police are out corraling street-crossers with caution tape at 6th Avenue in the high 40s/low 50s, some stretches of bike lane have been appropriated by pine-pushers - and Midtown is indeed busier than it has been. At least, this evening, I found it to be so between about 4:45 and 6:30. That's when I got all my rides. And I only had to solicit one set of passengers - the other three approached me! After 6:30, however, I scared up not a single fare, in two circuits of 6th & 7th Avenues. And I was very very hungry. So I decided to head home.
Now that I've turned off the WiFi-search function on my iPhone, it's become a hell of a lot more useful for finding locations my passengers need to get to. Google maps is now quick enough that I can type in a destination such as "disney store" or "sardi's," and get a pin dropped, at a red light. Today I even managed to confirm the location of the theatre where Chicago was playing, by iPhone. First I typed in "chicago" - and was told that "Walking directions could not be found between those two locations." Then I typed in "chicago musical" and voila! There it was! 49th between 8th and Broadway. In this case my passengers had already given me this information, but I was agonizing over whether to drop them at the corner of 49th and 8th or go up to 50th and then back down Broadway so I could drop them right in front of the theatre. Since Google maps indicated the theatre was none too close to 8th, I chose to go up and around. The advantage to me of going right up to the theatre is that now I'll be sure to remember precisely where it is and how to get there.
Speaking of knowing where things are: This evening I picked up two ladies, on 6th Avenue in the high 30s. One of them said they were going to 44th Street. "44th and 6th?" I asked. "Actually," she said, "we're going to Sardi's." Since I had taken a passenger there once before, I was able to say, with confidence, "That's a bit farther over. I can get you there." And I could! And I did! And when we arrived she told me that they hadn't been able to find a taxi driver who knew where they were going! So my slow but steady gathering of knowledge of New York night spots is paying off. May it swell with the season.
P+Y+T+U
Saturday, November 27, 2010
A Calm, Sure Mind
Date: 27 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 18
Hours: 4:30-6:15pm
Rides Given: 2
I was not feeling it today. I was not feeling alert. So I bowed out early. In part I'm reacting to an airless four-hour stint on the Megabus back from Boston this afternoon; in part I'm reacting to a blow to my confidence sustained last Tuesday as the result of a run-in with a rear-view mirror (my pedicab's canopy collided with an SUV's mirror, snapping the plastic away from the glass). I paid the SUV driver in cash, on the spot, for the damage I'd caused - which hurt, because I was on my way to an arranged ride that was only going to pay half that much. I really don't know how much the repair will cost. He said $100, $80 seemed fair to me, and on $80 we agreed.
It really wasn't a major incident, as incidents go (the glass didn't even crack). And yet it troubles me because it brings me smack up against the fact that a trike is a serious vehicle capable of causing serious damage, if not handled properly. Usually, when I am negotiating a narrow passage between two lines of cars, I move very slowly, checking behind me; this time, for a couple reasons, I neglected to take either precaution. And just like that, in a split second, I was in the midst of a major "Oh, shit!" moment. I suppose this taking the capabilities of my three-wheeled vehicle is a big deal for me because I started triking after walking all my life (with occasional episodes of biking, in cities other than New York); had I switched to triking from driving a motor vehicle, I'd probably already appreciate the harm I as a driver have the potential to cause.
And then, this afternoon, on 6th Avenue in the 40s, with three passengers in my cab, I got tapped on the back left wheel by a limo. What exactly happened? We had both just crossed the intersection - I think he sped up too much - I doubt the contact our vehicles made resulted from carelessness on my part. And yet, in a sense, any contact I make, while driving, with anything other than the road, is my fault, since it's my job to be aware of everything that's moving around me, at all times. Anyway - this harmless little tap freaked me out even more. What if I'm jinxed now? What if I'm now condemned to keep hitting things? Bullshit, of course, especially when written down and examined - but debilitating nonetheless. So here I am, off the road for the night, deeming it right to be kind to myself, to err on the side of caution - and enter the fray with a calmer, surer mind next time.
Day of Chronicles: 18
Hours: 4:30-6:15pm
Rides Given: 2
I was not feeling it today. I was not feeling alert. So I bowed out early. In part I'm reacting to an airless four-hour stint on the Megabus back from Boston this afternoon; in part I'm reacting to a blow to my confidence sustained last Tuesday as the result of a run-in with a rear-view mirror (my pedicab's canopy collided with an SUV's mirror, snapping the plastic away from the glass). I paid the SUV driver in cash, on the spot, for the damage I'd caused - which hurt, because I was on my way to an arranged ride that was only going to pay half that much. I really don't know how much the repair will cost. He said $100, $80 seemed fair to me, and on $80 we agreed.
It really wasn't a major incident, as incidents go (the glass didn't even crack). And yet it troubles me because it brings me smack up against the fact that a trike is a serious vehicle capable of causing serious damage, if not handled properly. Usually, when I am negotiating a narrow passage between two lines of cars, I move very slowly, checking behind me; this time, for a couple reasons, I neglected to take either precaution. And just like that, in a split second, I was in the midst of a major "Oh, shit!" moment. I suppose this taking the capabilities of my three-wheeled vehicle is a big deal for me because I started triking after walking all my life (with occasional episodes of biking, in cities other than New York); had I switched to triking from driving a motor vehicle, I'd probably already appreciate the harm I as a driver have the potential to cause.
And then, this afternoon, on 6th Avenue in the 40s, with three passengers in my cab, I got tapped on the back left wheel by a limo. What exactly happened? We had both just crossed the intersection - I think he sped up too much - I doubt the contact our vehicles made resulted from carelessness on my part. And yet, in a sense, any contact I make, while driving, with anything other than the road, is my fault, since it's my job to be aware of everything that's moving around me, at all times. Anyway - this harmless little tap freaked me out even more. What if I'm jinxed now? What if I'm now condemned to keep hitting things? Bullshit, of course, especially when written down and examined - but debilitating nonetheless. So here I am, off the road for the night, deeming it right to be kind to myself, to err on the side of caution - and enter the fray with a calmer, surer mind next time.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Busy-ness & Bike Lanes
Date: 20 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 17
Hours: 3:30-6:45pm
Rides Given: 5
My riding session started, fairly unpleasantly, with a taxi driver on 6th Avenue between 34th & 35th yelling at me, "Why don't you ride in the bike lane?" I, not in the best of moods, yelled back, "Because it's illegal, asshole!"
And there you have the trouble with not allowing pedicabs in bike lanes: Not the actual ban, but the ignorance thereof, on the part of motor vehicle drivers. They expect me to be in the bike lane, and when I'm not they feel free to honk at/swear at/otherwise attempt to intimidate me. 6th Avenue in the 30s is probably the stretch where my expectations and those of my motor-vehicle-driving brethren clash most ferociously - motor vehicles tend to go pretty fast there, and the bike lane is not physically separated from the other lanes. So the motor vehicle drivers think all they need to do is honk at me and I'll scurry over to the pedal-power ghetto, where I belong.
When the pedicab law first took effect, about a year ago, I, like the mysterious trash-bag-covered protester who interrupted Christine Quinn's dinner the other night, mourned loss of access to bike lanes. Since then, I've gotten used to (for the most part) staying the heck out of them, and I can't say I miss them. Why? Because they're so often blocked by taxis, delivery trucks, Christmas tree salesmen, and so on. If I stay the heck out of them, I have less of a chance of being creamed as I attempt to merge into a lane of motor-vehicle traffic, while skirting an obstruction. Also, the average pedicab is wide enough that it would be difficult for a bike to pass it, were both traveling in the bike lane. Why snatch real estate from bikes, for pedicabs? Why not snatch it from motor vehicles instead?
So, no, I'm not bitter about being banned from bike lanes, while riding a pedicab. I just think a public service campaign is in order, to let the city's motor vehicle drivers know that when we're riding in what they think are their lanes, we're right where we belong. Sending a bulletin out to all taxi and limo drivers would be a good start.
And now, on to the rest of the evening! Which did get better in the wake of that initial altercation!
Gregg (my fiance & seven-year pedicab veteran) said that 4:30-6:00 is the busy time on Saturdays and sure enough, I made about three quarters of my money within that window. I couldn't quit at 6:00, since I still had $14 to make to meet my weekend quota, so I rolled down 7th Avenue seeking fares. At Penn Station, two prospects in a row spat out perhaps the rudest refusals I've ever received: "I'm not going anywhere in that thing!" and "Nowhere you're going!" I thought (too late, of course), to reply, "Just because you're in New York doesn't mean you're required to be rude, you know. A simple 'No, thank you' would do." Alas, Pandora (that's our cat, for those of you who've never met her) got my tongue.
I must say, rude refusals still get to me. I was wishing I could just head on home, after getting those two. But I had my quota to make, so I continued, and, while drinking water at 7th & 38th, was approached by two women (one of them older, with a bad knee) wanting a ride to Macy's. That brought me up to quota, and not too far from RR. Back to the depot I rode.
I'm beginning to realize that I can recognize the busy times not just by how many prospects respond positively to my solicitations, but by how many people solicit me. Whenever there's a rush worth a damn, I pretty much always get people asking me for rides. A wonderful reversal! I enjoy it immensely (except when the party is too large, doesn't know where they're going, and starts to whine about the price).
Oh, and one more thing! I forgot to note this in yesterday's post, so I'm noting it now. Last night, as I was riding up 8th Avenue, near the Port Authority, with my Hilton-Garden-Inn-bound British couple in back, I witnessed the following mini-scene, which was a first for me: Two young women in heels and fitted trench coats were hailing a cab. Seeing me approaching, one said to the other, "Oh, that looks fun! Let's take one of those!" Then, seeing my passengers, she said, "Too bad! It's full."
I must say the exchange pleased me, though I was sorry I wasn't able to accommodate the two ladies. It's nice to feel sought after, you know?
Day of Chronicles: 17
Hours: 3:30-6:45pm
Rides Given: 5
My riding session started, fairly unpleasantly, with a taxi driver on 6th Avenue between 34th & 35th yelling at me, "Why don't you ride in the bike lane?" I, not in the best of moods, yelled back, "Because it's illegal, asshole!"
And there you have the trouble with not allowing pedicabs in bike lanes: Not the actual ban, but the ignorance thereof, on the part of motor vehicle drivers. They expect me to be in the bike lane, and when I'm not they feel free to honk at/swear at/otherwise attempt to intimidate me. 6th Avenue in the 30s is probably the stretch where my expectations and those of my motor-vehicle-driving brethren clash most ferociously - motor vehicles tend to go pretty fast there, and the bike lane is not physically separated from the other lanes. So the motor vehicle drivers think all they need to do is honk at me and I'll scurry over to the pedal-power ghetto, where I belong.
When the pedicab law first took effect, about a year ago, I, like the mysterious trash-bag-covered protester who interrupted Christine Quinn's dinner the other night, mourned loss of access to bike lanes. Since then, I've gotten used to (for the most part) staying the heck out of them, and I can't say I miss them. Why? Because they're so often blocked by taxis, delivery trucks, Christmas tree salesmen, and so on. If I stay the heck out of them, I have less of a chance of being creamed as I attempt to merge into a lane of motor-vehicle traffic, while skirting an obstruction. Also, the average pedicab is wide enough that it would be difficult for a bike to pass it, were both traveling in the bike lane. Why snatch real estate from bikes, for pedicabs? Why not snatch it from motor vehicles instead?
So, no, I'm not bitter about being banned from bike lanes, while riding a pedicab. I just think a public service campaign is in order, to let the city's motor vehicle drivers know that when we're riding in what they think are their lanes, we're right where we belong. Sending a bulletin out to all taxi and limo drivers would be a good start.
And now, on to the rest of the evening! Which did get better in the wake of that initial altercation!
Gregg (my fiance & seven-year pedicab veteran) said that 4:30-6:00 is the busy time on Saturdays and sure enough, I made about three quarters of my money within that window. I couldn't quit at 6:00, since I still had $14 to make to meet my weekend quota, so I rolled down 7th Avenue seeking fares. At Penn Station, two prospects in a row spat out perhaps the rudest refusals I've ever received: "I'm not going anywhere in that thing!" and "Nowhere you're going!" I thought (too late, of course), to reply, "Just because you're in New York doesn't mean you're required to be rude, you know. A simple 'No, thank you' would do." Alas, Pandora (that's our cat, for those of you who've never met her) got my tongue.
I must say, rude refusals still get to me. I was wishing I could just head on home, after getting those two. But I had my quota to make, so I continued, and, while drinking water at 7th & 38th, was approached by two women (one of them older, with a bad knee) wanting a ride to Macy's. That brought me up to quota, and not too far from RR. Back to the depot I rode.
I'm beginning to realize that I can recognize the busy times not just by how many prospects respond positively to my solicitations, but by how many people solicit me. Whenever there's a rush worth a damn, I pretty much always get people asking me for rides. A wonderful reversal! I enjoy it immensely (except when the party is too large, doesn't know where they're going, and starts to whine about the price).
Oh, and one more thing! I forgot to note this in yesterday's post, so I'm noting it now. Last night, as I was riding up 8th Avenue, near the Port Authority, with my Hilton-Garden-Inn-bound British couple in back, I witnessed the following mini-scene, which was a first for me: Two young women in heels and fitted trench coats were hailing a cab. Seeing me approaching, one said to the other, "Oh, that looks fun! Let's take one of those!" Then, seeing my passengers, she said, "Too bad! It's full."
I must say the exchange pleased me, though I was sorry I wasn't able to accommodate the two ladies. It's nice to feel sought after, you know?
Friday, November 19, 2010
Kicking Ass, Taking Credit Cards
Date: 19 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 16
Hours: 5:00-8:45pm
Rides Given: 4
As a result of my moment of truth on 7th Avenue in the 50s last night (when 3 different taxi seekers declined rides on the grounds of no cash), I decided to acquire credit-card-processing capability. Tonight - Hallelujah! - on 7th Avenue, in the 50s, I picked up my first credit card ride (to 70th & 1st - hey, I was in the neighborhood, you know?). I was worried that the processing process would be cumbersome, that the passenger would get impatient with the plod through the fields on the touch screen - but actually it was very quick and easy and the iPhone did a great job! My passenger did have a bit of a hard time accepting that the whole experience was for real - I think she'd never even ridden in a pedicab before, and getting a pedicab driver who spoke English and took credit cards and was happy to go to 70th & 1st (for a reasonable price, I might add) was just too many weird things at once.
Coasting back to Midtown from 70th & 1st, by way of Park, I passed within a half block of my old high school, on East 68th Street. Taking in the majestic light show, laid out between me and Grand Central, I recalled a prediction my mother made twenty years ago, when I was choosing between Stuyvesant (at that time a dump on 14th Street with puke-green lockers) and the tiny Catholic girls' school with the grand marble staircase and red velvet carpet. She said, "Someday, when you see Park Avenue all lit up in front of you, you're going to know you made the right choice." I didn't really get what she meant at the time, but over the years I did come to appreciate the grandeur of that area, and did feel a certain reverence, riding down that hill tonight.
In other news, a strange thing happened to me in Times Square this evening. To wit, I sort of rejected two prospective fares: One for being too large a party, not knowing where they were going ("I don't know where Chipotle is around here! You're supposed to tell me!"), and whining about the price; the other for wishing to be taken to an address that struck me as apocryphal (Church & Sutton? Anybody ever heard of it?). (I didn't exactly reject the second prospective passenger - he changed his mind about getting in as a result of my questioning his destination.) Maybe it's a good thing - being a little picky. Not too long after I picked up a jolly British couple on the 31st Street side of Penn Station (yup, there's a taxi stand there too) and took them to the Hilton Garden Inn (49th & 8th) and everybody won.
Day of Chronicles: 16
Hours: 5:00-8:45pm
Rides Given: 4
As a result of my moment of truth on 7th Avenue in the 50s last night (when 3 different taxi seekers declined rides on the grounds of no cash), I decided to acquire credit-card-processing capability. Tonight - Hallelujah! - on 7th Avenue, in the 50s, I picked up my first credit card ride (to 70th & 1st - hey, I was in the neighborhood, you know?). I was worried that the processing process would be cumbersome, that the passenger would get impatient with the plod through the fields on the touch screen - but actually it was very quick and easy and the iPhone did a great job! My passenger did have a bit of a hard time accepting that the whole experience was for real - I think she'd never even ridden in a pedicab before, and getting a pedicab driver who spoke English and took credit cards and was happy to go to 70th & 1st (for a reasonable price, I might add) was just too many weird things at once.
Coasting back to Midtown from 70th & 1st, by way of Park, I passed within a half block of my old high school, on East 68th Street. Taking in the majestic light show, laid out between me and Grand Central, I recalled a prediction my mother made twenty years ago, when I was choosing between Stuyvesant (at that time a dump on 14th Street with puke-green lockers) and the tiny Catholic girls' school with the grand marble staircase and red velvet carpet. She said, "Someday, when you see Park Avenue all lit up in front of you, you're going to know you made the right choice." I didn't really get what she meant at the time, but over the years I did come to appreciate the grandeur of that area, and did feel a certain reverence, riding down that hill tonight.
In other news, a strange thing happened to me in Times Square this evening. To wit, I sort of rejected two prospective fares: One for being too large a party, not knowing where they were going ("I don't know where Chipotle is around here! You're supposed to tell me!"), and whining about the price; the other for wishing to be taken to an address that struck me as apocryphal (Church & Sutton? Anybody ever heard of it?). (I didn't exactly reject the second prospective passenger - he changed his mind about getting in as a result of my questioning his destination.) Maybe it's a good thing - being a little picky. Not too long after I picked up a jolly British couple on the 31st Street side of Penn Station (yup, there's a taxi stand there too) and took them to the Hilton Garden Inn (49th & 8th) and everybody won.
You Ride, You Learn
Date: 18 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 15
Hours: 4:15-7:15pm
Rides Given: 2
Last night was a rough one (as you can see from the low number of rides). I got an easy ride up 6th Avenue, fairly early on, and then, while rolling down 7th Avenue in the 50s, I encountered 3 taxi seekers in a row who declined my offer of a ride because they had no cash. It's true, people do sometimes use that as an excuse - they do in fact have cash, but they figure saying they can't pay you is a foolproof way to move you on. In these three cases, however, I don't think anyone was lying - and I'm certain the last woman wasn't. She made a move toward me, luggage and all, then said, "Oh, the only thing is - you don't take credit cards, do you?"
I, to my excessive chagrin, had to agree with her, and ride away. Very much bugged, of course, by these opportunities lost.
The second shitty thing that happened last night was sort of comical (in retrospect, that is - I took it very seriously at the time). I solicited a young man with two large pieces of luggage at just northeast of 34th & 6th. He said he was going to 161 Lexington Avenue. I was like, "Sure, I'll take you!" I didn't know the cross street, but I figured I'd Google map it on my iPhone on the way. As I was pulling out into traffic, I realized I really needed to know right then, because I wasn't even sure whether to head south or north. Then he asked how long it would take. I asked, "What's the cross street?" He said, "It's between 14th & 15th." I, in my flustered state, did not realize that Lexington Avenue does not ever intersect with those streets. So I did a little calculating and said, "Fifteen minutes." He said, "That long? Do you mind if I get out?" I said, "You can do whatever you like." He got out. I felt like a total idiot. Later on, at home, I discovered that he was most likely heading to the Ramada Eastside, at 30th & Lex. 0.8 miles from 34th & 6th. I probably could have made it in 8-10 minutes.
Anyway!
What saved my night was the business traveler, just into Penn Station from Baltimore, who flagged me down on 31st between 8th & 9th, needing a ride to the Desmond Tutu Center. Having walked past it many times, I had a pretty good idea of where it was (down a hill! fuck yeah!). I drove him there without mishap, he was gracious and grateful, and everyone lived happily ever after.
Oh, and I almost forgot! The other event that saved my night was running into my brother and nephew at the corner of 42nd & 7th (my brother works in the Conde Nast building) and giving them a very short ride to their Harry Potter screening at the AMC Times Square. That was fun!
Day of Chronicles: 15
Hours: 4:15-7:15pm
Rides Given: 2
Last night was a rough one (as you can see from the low number of rides). I got an easy ride up 6th Avenue, fairly early on, and then, while rolling down 7th Avenue in the 50s, I encountered 3 taxi seekers in a row who declined my offer of a ride because they had no cash. It's true, people do sometimes use that as an excuse - they do in fact have cash, but they figure saying they can't pay you is a foolproof way to move you on. In these three cases, however, I don't think anyone was lying - and I'm certain the last woman wasn't. She made a move toward me, luggage and all, then said, "Oh, the only thing is - you don't take credit cards, do you?"
I, to my excessive chagrin, had to agree with her, and ride away. Very much bugged, of course, by these opportunities lost.
The second shitty thing that happened last night was sort of comical (in retrospect, that is - I took it very seriously at the time). I solicited a young man with two large pieces of luggage at just northeast of 34th & 6th. He said he was going to 161 Lexington Avenue. I was like, "Sure, I'll take you!" I didn't know the cross street, but I figured I'd Google map it on my iPhone on the way. As I was pulling out into traffic, I realized I really needed to know right then, because I wasn't even sure whether to head south or north. Then he asked how long it would take. I asked, "What's the cross street?" He said, "It's between 14th & 15th." I, in my flustered state, did not realize that Lexington Avenue does not ever intersect with those streets. So I did a little calculating and said, "Fifteen minutes." He said, "That long? Do you mind if I get out?" I said, "You can do whatever you like." He got out. I felt like a total idiot. Later on, at home, I discovered that he was most likely heading to the Ramada Eastside, at 30th & Lex. 0.8 miles from 34th & 6th. I probably could have made it in 8-10 minutes.
Anyway!
What saved my night was the business traveler, just into Penn Station from Baltimore, who flagged me down on 31st between 8th & 9th, needing a ride to the Desmond Tutu Center. Having walked past it many times, I had a pretty good idea of where it was (down a hill! fuck yeah!). I drove him there without mishap, he was gracious and grateful, and everyone lived happily ever after.
Oh, and I almost forgot! The other event that saved my night was running into my brother and nephew at the corner of 42nd & 7th (my brother works in the Conde Nast building) and giving them a very short ride to their Harry Potter screening at the AMC Times Square. That was fun!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Balmy Night in November
Date: 12 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 14
Hours: 3:45-8:00pm
Rides Given: 7
Friday was a busy night, probably because it was unseasonably warm. I picked up a fare on my first pass through Times Square, around 4:00pm, and then didn't stay empty for more than maybe 15 minutes at a time thereafter.
Usually I spend most of my pedicabbing time on the West Side, and in Midtown; on Friday, one ride led to another, and I ended up farther north and east than I've ever taken passengers: 94th & 3d! First I took a tired lady with a large Forever 21 bag from Times Square to Grand Central. Then I took a mom and her kids (car-driving dad had, apparently, stood them up) from Grand Central to 78th & Madison. Finally, I took a single lady from Madison & 79th to 94th & 3d. Luckily, I picked up a Penn-Station-bound passenger on 5th Avenue, in the high 60s, so I didn't have to deadhead all the way back to the thick of things. (I'd thought Park Avenue in the 80s or 90s might be a good place to get a ride but, alas, no luck.)
Speaking of Penn Station - I believe I have realized a couple worthwhile truths about the lines. One is that the real renegades don't even bother with the line - they go up- or downtown of it and see what they can rustle up on their own. The other is that those further from the end of the line have already invested a significant amount of time in standing in it, hence are less likely to jump ship. (The more you sacrifice, the more you cling to that which you've sacrificed for.) These may well be "Duh!" ideas to any veteran pedicab driver - but to me they seem quite useful. So I'm passing them along.
My very last passengers Friday night were a couple from Philadelphia celebrating their 22nd anniversary in the big(ger) city. The husband flagged me down at 56th & Broadway, asking me how far it was to Broadway. I told him and, of course, offered him to take him there. I think the two of them had actually never seen Times Square before! And they were at least in their fifties!
Anyhow, I realized while they were peering up at the lights and the billboards, and peering out at the people, that my open-air chariot was precisely the perfect vehicle for their purposes. How much of Times Square can you really see from a taxi?
Day of Chronicles: 14
Hours: 3:45-8:00pm
Rides Given: 7
Friday was a busy night, probably because it was unseasonably warm. I picked up a fare on my first pass through Times Square, around 4:00pm, and then didn't stay empty for more than maybe 15 minutes at a time thereafter.
Usually I spend most of my pedicabbing time on the West Side, and in Midtown; on Friday, one ride led to another, and I ended up farther north and east than I've ever taken passengers: 94th & 3d! First I took a tired lady with a large Forever 21 bag from Times Square to Grand Central. Then I took a mom and her kids (car-driving dad had, apparently, stood them up) from Grand Central to 78th & Madison. Finally, I took a single lady from Madison & 79th to 94th & 3d. Luckily, I picked up a Penn-Station-bound passenger on 5th Avenue, in the high 60s, so I didn't have to deadhead all the way back to the thick of things. (I'd thought Park Avenue in the 80s or 90s might be a good place to get a ride but, alas, no luck.)
Speaking of Penn Station - I believe I have realized a couple worthwhile truths about the lines. One is that the real renegades don't even bother with the line - they go up- or downtown of it and see what they can rustle up on their own. The other is that those further from the end of the line have already invested a significant amount of time in standing in it, hence are less likely to jump ship. (The more you sacrifice, the more you cling to that which you've sacrificed for.) These may well be "Duh!" ideas to any veteran pedicab driver - but to me they seem quite useful. So I'm passing them along.
My very last passengers Friday night were a couple from Philadelphia celebrating their 22nd anniversary in the big(ger) city. The husband flagged me down at 56th & Broadway, asking me how far it was to Broadway. I told him and, of course, offered him to take him there. I think the two of them had actually never seen Times Square before! And they were at least in their fifties!
Anyhow, I realized while they were peering up at the lights and the billboards, and peering out at the people, that my open-air chariot was precisely the perfect vehicle for their purposes. How much of Times Square can you really see from a taxi?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Best Thursday Ever!
Date: 11 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 13
Hours: 4:15-8:30pm
Rides Given: 6
Wow! What a whirlwind! Pretty slow till about 5:00pm, then I drove a semi-catatonic dude from Herald Square to Hell's Kitchen. After that I whisked two little girls and a dad from lower Times Square to Macy's, a British-sounding chap from Herald Square to Sardi's, two extra large New Jersey ladies from Penn Station to Stub Hub (40th & Broadway), a couple from Penn Station to "the cube" at Astor Place, and a single lady from 28th & 6th to 28th & 11th.
Just as I was dropping my passenger off in front of Sardi's (yes, this passenger, who'd ridden a pedicab once before, in Beijing, did give the most generous tip of the night), a police officer popped out of nowhere and asked to see my "DCA license." Then he checked my blinkers (I had - oops! - left one on after turning onto 44th Street from Broadway, but he didn't seem to mind that - he just wanted to make sure they were both working), and told me I was "looking good." "I pass muster, then?" I said, trying to get a smile out of him. He did agree, but did not smile, and away I drove.
I was not feeling Penn Station tonight. I made one attempt at each line, failed utterly each time, and decided to do the up 6th/down 7th thing instead. That was dandy. Sometimes I'm just not in the mood to work a crowd.
Day of Chronicles: 13
Hours: 4:15-8:30pm
Rides Given: 6
Wow! What a whirlwind! Pretty slow till about 5:00pm, then I drove a semi-catatonic dude from Herald Square to Hell's Kitchen. After that I whisked two little girls and a dad from lower Times Square to Macy's, a British-sounding chap from Herald Square to Sardi's, two extra large New Jersey ladies from Penn Station to Stub Hub (40th & Broadway), a couple from Penn Station to "the cube" at Astor Place, and a single lady from 28th & 6th to 28th & 11th.
Just as I was dropping my passenger off in front of Sardi's (yes, this passenger, who'd ridden a pedicab once before, in Beijing, did give the most generous tip of the night), a police officer popped out of nowhere and asked to see my "DCA license." Then he checked my blinkers (I had - oops! - left one on after turning onto 44th Street from Broadway, but he didn't seem to mind that - he just wanted to make sure they were both working), and told me I was "looking good." "I pass muster, then?" I said, trying to get a smile out of him. He did agree, but did not smile, and away I drove.
I was not feeling Penn Station tonight. I made one attempt at each line, failed utterly each time, and decided to do the up 6th/down 7th thing instead. That was dandy. Sometimes I'm just not in the mood to work a crowd.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
A Long-Distance Run, If Ever There Was One
Date: 7 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 12
Hours: 2:40-7:40pm
Rides Given: 6
I must say, there were times today when I was neither proud nor happy to be a pedicab driver. Broadway was one big clusterfuck, north of Columbus Circle; for a while the police weren't even letting pedicabs up there, thanks to bunching and other bullshit behavior. One jerk on a yellow Main Street urged me to move aside, at a red light, so he could get through (OMG! with his passenger!) and then, when I didn't move fast enough, rammed his wheel into my wheelcover (as a result of misjudging the distance between me and the next taxi over). Last year on Marathon Sunday I was exhilarated to be one with the rickshaw swarm whirling around Columbus Circle; this year, I was like, get me out of here. Maybe next year I'll stay south of 57th Street.
Partly in response to the stresses of the behavioral sink, partly in response to a dumb mistake I made at the Hilton, I ended up huddled in my blanket, in the passenger seat of my pedicab, across the street from the Manhattan Times Square Hotel, at around 5:00pm, melting down. That didn't improve my mood, so I wiped my glasses, put on some warmer clothes, and headed on down 7th Ave towards the depot, still (not so discreetly) weeping. What do you know, a marathoner stopped me at 41st & 7th, asking for a ride to the 33d Street PATH station. And just after I'd dropped her off a foursome from Texas begged for a ride to the Carlton (on Madison between 28th & 29th). So there I was, back in the high life, through no proaction of my own.
I figured I might as well keep it going, so I put my solicitation cap back on, and got a ride pretty quickly, from about 36th & 6th to 44th & 8th. I still needed $18 to reach my goal for the weekend, so I decided to make one more trip up to Marathon central. I rode all the way up to 68th & Broadway, and most of the way 7th Ave - no luck. And then, at 39th & 7th, I saw a couple of homeboys desultorily sending out the one-fingered salute, four lanes away from me. I yelled over to them and what do you know, they got in! And they were only going to Penn Station! I told them $16, they gave me $25, and damn, was it ever an easy ride!
So I made my goal - and in a way it wasn't wise, since it probably took me an extra 2 hours to make my last 40 or so dollars - but the upside is that I've substantially upped my confidence that when I set a goal, I can reach it.
Bye bye, Marathon. See you in Midtown next year.
Day of Chronicles: 12
Hours: 2:40-7:40pm
Rides Given: 6
I must say, there were times today when I was neither proud nor happy to be a pedicab driver. Broadway was one big clusterfuck, north of Columbus Circle; for a while the police weren't even letting pedicabs up there, thanks to bunching and other bullshit behavior. One jerk on a yellow Main Street urged me to move aside, at a red light, so he could get through (OMG! with his passenger!) and then, when I didn't move fast enough, rammed his wheel into my wheelcover (as a result of misjudging the distance between me and the next taxi over). Last year on Marathon Sunday I was exhilarated to be one with the rickshaw swarm whirling around Columbus Circle; this year, I was like, get me out of here. Maybe next year I'll stay south of 57th Street.
Partly in response to the stresses of the behavioral sink, partly in response to a dumb mistake I made at the Hilton, I ended up huddled in my blanket, in the passenger seat of my pedicab, across the street from the Manhattan Times Square Hotel, at around 5:00pm, melting down. That didn't improve my mood, so I wiped my glasses, put on some warmer clothes, and headed on down 7th Ave towards the depot, still (not so discreetly) weeping. What do you know, a marathoner stopped me at 41st & 7th, asking for a ride to the 33d Street PATH station. And just after I'd dropped her off a foursome from Texas begged for a ride to the Carlton (on Madison between 28th & 29th). So there I was, back in the high life, through no proaction of my own.
I figured I might as well keep it going, so I put my solicitation cap back on, and got a ride pretty quickly, from about 36th & 6th to 44th & 8th. I still needed $18 to reach my goal for the weekend, so I decided to make one more trip up to Marathon central. I rode all the way up to 68th & Broadway, and most of the way 7th Ave - no luck. And then, at 39th & 7th, I saw a couple of homeboys desultorily sending out the one-fingered salute, four lanes away from me. I yelled over to them and what do you know, they got in! And they were only going to Penn Station! I told them $16, they gave me $25, and damn, was it ever an easy ride!
So I made my goal - and in a way it wasn't wise, since it probably took me an extra 2 hours to make my last 40 or so dollars - but the upside is that I've substantially upped my confidence that when I set a goal, I can reach it.
Bye bye, Marathon. See you in Midtown next year.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
A Good Night's Sleep...
Date: 6 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 11
Hours: 5:20-9:20pm
Rides Given: 3
...is, I conjecture, what the marathon runners are all getting right now. Which is why, perhaps, there was not exactly a critical mass of desperate taxi seekers out on the street just now. Yes, at about 7:00 tonight I started to regret not milking Friday for all it was worth.
On a brighter note: I now know I am capable of carrying one couple plus significant luggage from Penn Station to the Bentley Hotel, at 62nd & York. Fuck yeah! If pedicabbing isn't a "Yes, we can!" job, I don't know what is. Not only did the husband of the couple give me a 90% tip, he also said, before handing me the money, "You're an amazing lady." The odd compliment doesn't make the job harder, anyway.
I know now I am also capable of transporting a couple from Penn Station to the Beacon Theater (at 75th & Broadway). Which does, I must say, feel like vindication to me, since a few weeks ago a pair of European tourists hailing a cab at 58th & 5th roundly rebuffed my assurance that I could take them to precisely that destination. Take that, ladies!
I have noticed that, for better or worse, my automatic response to almost any taxi seeker who answers my query, "Where are you going?" is, "I'll take you there!" Maybe I need to moderate that, or at least attach larger prices to my unconditional affirmatives. Or maybe it's all good, it's all experience, and every ride given builds competence.
I've been trying various lines on the Penn Station lines. Today, after a particularly lame stab at the 7th Avenue line, I headed over to 8th Avenue, and asked, "Why take a taxi, when you could take a chariot!" I then made eye contact with the guy who cracked a smile, asked him where he was going, said, "I'll take you there!" without thinking about it...and ended up at the Bentley, immeasurably stronger.
Day of Chronicles: 11
Hours: 5:20-9:20pm
Rides Given: 3
...is, I conjecture, what the marathon runners are all getting right now. Which is why, perhaps, there was not exactly a critical mass of desperate taxi seekers out on the street just now. Yes, at about 7:00 tonight I started to regret not milking Friday for all it was worth.
On a brighter note: I now know I am capable of carrying one couple plus significant luggage from Penn Station to the Bentley Hotel, at 62nd & York. Fuck yeah! If pedicabbing isn't a "Yes, we can!" job, I don't know what is. Not only did the husband of the couple give me a 90% tip, he also said, before handing me the money, "You're an amazing lady." The odd compliment doesn't make the job harder, anyway.
I know now I am also capable of transporting a couple from Penn Station to the Beacon Theater (at 75th & Broadway). Which does, I must say, feel like vindication to me, since a few weeks ago a pair of European tourists hailing a cab at 58th & 5th roundly rebuffed my assurance that I could take them to precisely that destination. Take that, ladies!
I have noticed that, for better or worse, my automatic response to almost any taxi seeker who answers my query, "Where are you going?" is, "I'll take you there!" Maybe I need to moderate that, or at least attach larger prices to my unconditional affirmatives. Or maybe it's all good, it's all experience, and every ride given builds competence.
I've been trying various lines on the Penn Station lines. Today, after a particularly lame stab at the 7th Avenue line, I headed over to 8th Avenue, and asked, "Why take a taxi, when you could take a chariot!" I then made eye contact with the guy who cracked a smile, asked him where he was going, said, "I'll take you there!" without thinking about it...and ended up at the Bentley, immeasurably stronger.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Marathon Weekend, Hallelujah!
Date: 5 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 10
Hours: 3:30-4:30pm, 5:00-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
Honestly, there's more money to be made out there, and I know it. But I was really hungry, and I'd met my goal for the night, so I decided to quit while I was ahead. Repeat after me: One of the perks of driving a pedicab is that I set my own hours. Deep breath. One of the perks of driving a pedicab is that I set my own hours. Deep breath...
This afternoon (OMG!) I was pulled over for the first time ever (not because I'm such a perfect rule-follower, but because I've done very little motor-vehicle driving, and I haven't been pedicabbing regularly for all that long). I had, yes, done a Bad Thing - I'd crossed from the east to the west side of 7th Avenue, at 31st Street, by steering between the crosswalk and the phalanx of cars stopped at the red light. The cop also thought I hadn't signaled my right turn onto 31st Street, since he hadn't seen any light blinking on the front of my pedicab body. ("Some of the pedicabs have those blinkers on the front," he said.) I assured him that I had indeed signaled, that my pedicab had just been inspected by the DCA a day earlier (that's why it had the pretty yellow sticker), and that my turn signals were perfectly acceptable under the law. I demonstrated that they worked, on both sides, twice.
He granted me my turn signals.
Still, there was the issue of the Very Bad lane change. So he took my motor vehicle license and pedicab license and went away for a few minutes, leaving me to reckon with becoming an adult, and taking responsibility for my actions, and accepting that interacting with the NYPD comes with the territory of driving a pedicab. Then he came back and told me he couldn't find anything to get me on, so he was going to have to let me go. I thanked him, agreed that I had done a Bad Thing, and moved on. Hallelujah!
The reason I was rushing to turn west on 31st Street was that I suspected one or both of the back wheels on my trike were dragging. I wasn't totally sure, but I didn't want to get stuck with a bum trike all night. In a sense, this is more a psychological than a physical problem - I've gone riding with a bum trike, and not known till much later it was a bum trike, and done just fine. The problem arises when I know or suspect I have a bum trike, and then get demoralized because I know or suspect that I'm working harder than I have to.
In any case - I'm glad I heeded my suspicion. I did switch trikes, and my new trike ran a heck of a lot better. Hallelujah!
One thing I noticed tonight was how good passengers are at selling me on the value of the ride. When I started pedicabbing, I suffered from a severe lack of self-confidence - why would anyone want to get in this weird contraption anyway? But once you've listened to a couple dozen people rhapsodize, from the passenger seat, about what a great time they're having, and how this is the most fun thing ever, and they can't believe they're actually doing this, actually riding a rickshaw in New York City - you begin to understand the extent of the contribution you're making. Who posts status updates about, whoo-whee, taking a taxi ride? Who calls her BFF/parent/significant other to say, "OMG, you would not believe, I am riding, right now, in a taxi?"
Nobody does. Riding in a gas-guzzling yellow cab is no big deal. Riding in a pedicab is a god-blessed adventure.
Hallelujah!
Day of Chronicles: 10
Hours: 3:30-4:30pm, 5:00-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
Honestly, there's more money to be made out there, and I know it. But I was really hungry, and I'd met my goal for the night, so I decided to quit while I was ahead. Repeat after me: One of the perks of driving a pedicab is that I set my own hours. Deep breath. One of the perks of driving a pedicab is that I set my own hours. Deep breath...
This afternoon (OMG!) I was pulled over for the first time ever (not because I'm such a perfect rule-follower, but because I've done very little motor-vehicle driving, and I haven't been pedicabbing regularly for all that long). I had, yes, done a Bad Thing - I'd crossed from the east to the west side of 7th Avenue, at 31st Street, by steering between the crosswalk and the phalanx of cars stopped at the red light. The cop also thought I hadn't signaled my right turn onto 31st Street, since he hadn't seen any light blinking on the front of my pedicab body. ("Some of the pedicabs have those blinkers on the front," he said.) I assured him that I had indeed signaled, that my pedicab had just been inspected by the DCA a day earlier (that's why it had the pretty yellow sticker), and that my turn signals were perfectly acceptable under the law. I demonstrated that they worked, on both sides, twice.
He granted me my turn signals.
Still, there was the issue of the Very Bad lane change. So he took my motor vehicle license and pedicab license and went away for a few minutes, leaving me to reckon with becoming an adult, and taking responsibility for my actions, and accepting that interacting with the NYPD comes with the territory of driving a pedicab. Then he came back and told me he couldn't find anything to get me on, so he was going to have to let me go. I thanked him, agreed that I had done a Bad Thing, and moved on. Hallelujah!
The reason I was rushing to turn west on 31st Street was that I suspected one or both of the back wheels on my trike were dragging. I wasn't totally sure, but I didn't want to get stuck with a bum trike all night. In a sense, this is more a psychological than a physical problem - I've gone riding with a bum trike, and not known till much later it was a bum trike, and done just fine. The problem arises when I know or suspect I have a bum trike, and then get demoralized because I know or suspect that I'm working harder than I have to.
In any case - I'm glad I heeded my suspicion. I did switch trikes, and my new trike ran a heck of a lot better. Hallelujah!
One thing I noticed tonight was how good passengers are at selling me on the value of the ride. When I started pedicabbing, I suffered from a severe lack of self-confidence - why would anyone want to get in this weird contraption anyway? But once you've listened to a couple dozen people rhapsodize, from the passenger seat, about what a great time they're having, and how this is the most fun thing ever, and they can't believe they're actually doing this, actually riding a rickshaw in New York City - you begin to understand the extent of the contribution you're making. Who posts status updates about, whoo-whee, taking a taxi ride? Who calls her BFF/parent/significant other to say, "OMG, you would not believe, I am riding, right now, in a taxi?"
Nobody does. Riding in a gas-guzzling yellow cab is no big deal. Riding in a pedicab is a god-blessed adventure.
Hallelujah!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Halloween, Part II
Date: 31 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 9
Hours: 9:00pm-12:00am
Rides Given: 3
The Halloween parade did not yield infinite riches, to say the least. However, there were substantial crowds on 7th Avenue (where I picked up all three of my fares). It just seems you need the confluence of gobs of people partying all night (because it's Saturday night) and the parade, to create a pedicab bonanza. Maybe in 2015 we'll see that again....
I was pleased to have my last set of passengers duck under the police tape on 7th Ave to get into my pedicab. It's nice to feel wanted, you know? Wonderful when someone yells, "Pedicab! Pedicab!" and comes running over. (Every once in a while I get a little taste of what it must be like to drive a taxi....)
Tonight's best passenger costume was probably the green-eyed, blue-faced Avatar I took to Crimson, at 21st & Broadway. She and her girlfriend were both from the Bronx, hadn't taken a pedicab before, exclaimed repeatedly how much fun they were having - and screeched, as I turned onto 6th Avenue from 18th Street, "You ate the light!" (I swear, it was yellow when I started.)
So...this Halloween did not in any way live up to the expectations I'd formed, in the wake of last Halloween. But I survived. And gained competence and confidence. Every ride I give, every night I go out, I feel surer that I can make a living, and contribute to my city, by triking.
Day of Chronicles: 9
Hours: 9:00pm-12:00am
Rides Given: 3
The Halloween parade did not yield infinite riches, to say the least. However, there were substantial crowds on 7th Avenue (where I picked up all three of my fares). It just seems you need the confluence of gobs of people partying all night (because it's Saturday night) and the parade, to create a pedicab bonanza. Maybe in 2015 we'll see that again....
I was pleased to have my last set of passengers duck under the police tape on 7th Ave to get into my pedicab. It's nice to feel wanted, you know? Wonderful when someone yells, "Pedicab! Pedicab!" and comes running over. (Every once in a while I get a little taste of what it must be like to drive a taxi....)
Tonight's best passenger costume was probably the green-eyed, blue-faced Avatar I took to Crimson, at 21st & Broadway. She and her girlfriend were both from the Bronx, hadn't taken a pedicab before, exclaimed repeatedly how much fun they were having - and screeched, as I turned onto 6th Avenue from 18th Street, "You ate the light!" (I swear, it was yellow when I started.)
So...this Halloween did not in any way live up to the expectations I'd formed, in the wake of last Halloween. But I survived. And gained competence and confidence. Every ride I give, every night I go out, I feel surer that I can make a living, and contribute to my city, by triking.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Halloween, Part I
Date: 30 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 8
Hours: 10:00pm-2:00am
Rides Given: 6
Halloween 2009 was a bonanza for pedicab drivers: Since Halloween fell on a Saturday, both the parade and the serious drinking and partying occurred on the same night - which created a significant demand for late-night transportation. This year, the demand seems to be split between Saturday (serious drinking and partying) and Sunday (parade). Which means that last night no one flagged me down until about 1:30am (when, it seemed, taxi-seeking party goers were reaching critical, now-we'll-take-any-available-conveyance, mass). But by that time I was utterly exhausted - not in my leg muscles, but in my eyes, which were loathe to stay open. So I quit at 2:00am. I suspect if my circadian rhythms had been better calibrated I could have made a good chunk between 2 and 4 in the morning.
It was nice to ride around, late, in Midtown (where I found myself after driving two European ladies from West 11th & 7th, in the Village, to the Regency Hotel, at 61st & Park), amidst not a lot of traffic. It glittered with peace - I wish I could experience it in that state more often. (Alas, my ideal bedtime is about 10pm.)
Costumes? I didn't pay all that much attention. My best-costumed passenger was a fellow dressed up as a pinata, with sticky notes in all the colors of the pastel rainbow hot-glued to some invisible (because totally covered) underlayer.
Pricing: Geez, I am having a hard time with this! I can't seem to get out of the bargain basement. This afternoon I was comparing a few of the fares I quoted last night to what I should have charged, according to my posted (zone-based) rate card. The ride from the West Village to the Regency should have been about $60; I charged $35 (and the ladies, being European, did not tip, though they did have quite a good time and spent their first five or ten minutes in the pedicab giggling non-stop). Generally, I seem to be charging between half and a third of what the rate card says. The two rides on which the rate card and I came close to agreeing were a very short one (6th & West 4th to 14th between 6th & 7th) and one on which I teamed with Gregg (he set the price). Damn! I need to start charging more. Maybe I'll work on that tonight.
Day of Chronicles: 8
Hours: 10:00pm-2:00am
Rides Given: 6
Halloween 2009 was a bonanza for pedicab drivers: Since Halloween fell on a Saturday, both the parade and the serious drinking and partying occurred on the same night - which created a significant demand for late-night transportation. This year, the demand seems to be split between Saturday (serious drinking and partying) and Sunday (parade). Which means that last night no one flagged me down until about 1:30am (when, it seemed, taxi-seeking party goers were reaching critical, now-we'll-take-any-available-conveyance, mass). But by that time I was utterly exhausted - not in my leg muscles, but in my eyes, which were loathe to stay open. So I quit at 2:00am. I suspect if my circadian rhythms had been better calibrated I could have made a good chunk between 2 and 4 in the morning.
It was nice to ride around, late, in Midtown (where I found myself after driving two European ladies from West 11th & 7th, in the Village, to the Regency Hotel, at 61st & Park), amidst not a lot of traffic. It glittered with peace - I wish I could experience it in that state more often. (Alas, my ideal bedtime is about 10pm.)
Costumes? I didn't pay all that much attention. My best-costumed passenger was a fellow dressed up as a pinata, with sticky notes in all the colors of the pastel rainbow hot-glued to some invisible (because totally covered) underlayer.
Pricing: Geez, I am having a hard time with this! I can't seem to get out of the bargain basement. This afternoon I was comparing a few of the fares I quoted last night to what I should have charged, according to my posted (zone-based) rate card. The ride from the West Village to the Regency should have been about $60; I charged $35 (and the ladies, being European, did not tip, though they did have quite a good time and spent their first five or ten minutes in the pedicab giggling non-stop). Generally, I seem to be charging between half and a third of what the rate card says. The two rides on which the rate card and I came close to agreeing were a very short one (6th & West 4th to 14th between 6th & 7th) and one on which I teamed with Gregg (he set the price). Damn! I need to start charging more. Maybe I'll work on that tonight.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Bummer to Bummer
Date: 29 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 7
Hours: 4:30-6:00pm
Rides Given: 1
Well, honestly, the Friday before Halloween sucked for me last year too. But Halloween itself was great. So I'm going to cut my losses, forgive myself for kicking zero ass tonight, and exercise my prerogative, as a pedicab driver, to set my own hours. That's one of the prime advantages of this gig, right? That you get to quit when you feel like it.
Note to self: In future, if you're going to head in early, do it well before six. Just now it took me twenty minutes to navigate bumper-to-bumper tunnel traffic between 8th & Dyer Avenues. Ah, the bitter irony of getting stuck, on a pedicab, in a sea of motor vehicles! A chance to see how the other half lives?
Day of Chronicles: 7
Hours: 4:30-6:00pm
Rides Given: 1
Well, honestly, the Friday before Halloween sucked for me last year too. But Halloween itself was great. So I'm going to cut my losses, forgive myself for kicking zero ass tonight, and exercise my prerogative, as a pedicab driver, to set my own hours. That's one of the prime advantages of this gig, right? That you get to quit when you feel like it.
Note to self: In future, if you're going to head in early, do it well before six. Just now it took me twenty minutes to navigate bumper-to-bumper tunnel traffic between 8th & Dyer Avenues. Ah, the bitter irony of getting stuck, on a pedicab, in a sea of motor vehicles! A chance to see how the other half lives?
Friday, October 22, 2010
Hell Yeah!
Date: 22 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 6
Hours: 5:00-9:15pm
Rides Given: 7
Today's tasks were: To contribute as much as I could (in the way of transportation for those seeking it), to learn as much as I could, and to appear as innocent as possible.
Why this last? Because the police are on a pedicab-ticketing tear. I've not been pulled over yet, but yesterday a policewoman reprimanded a passenger of mine for allowing a limb or two to breach the bounds of the passenger seat, and today a policeman pointedly asked me, on 5th Avenue between 57th & 56th, whether I'd just made a turn. I hadn't - I'd simply had a hard time crossing 57th Street, and gotten stuck north of the crosswalk till the light changed - and I suppose he believed me, because (after repeating the question a couple times) he nodded and moved on. Not sure if he was trying to get me for turning south from 57th Street, or for not having my blinker on. Either way - I really was innocent (that time)!
My best passengers of the night were two ladies (visiting from Maryland, I think) whom I picked up at the northeast corner of 8th & 31st. I said sure I'd take them to 57th Street, but they didn't have cash, so I moved on. And then, thirty seconds later, they came running over and asked if it would work for us to stop at an ATM. One of them said she'd always wanted to take a pedicab, but hadn't yet had a chance. (That, I must say, was a heartening thing to hear.) As we drove up 6th Avenue, the two of them (being young, attractive, vivacious, and very well put-together) were getting (and returning) shout-outs from passersby, taking in the sights, and generally enjoying the heck out of their experience in an open-air conveyance. Bet that part of their NYC experience is gonna make it into a status update....
Tonight, for perhaps the first time, I convinced a couple very reluctant people to take a ride (often I do take no for answer). I just kept talking till they got in. However: Their getting in was a mixed blessing, since they ended up aborting the ride less than halfway to their purported destination. Oh well. A couple blocks farther down 7th Avenue I picked up a much more willing couple heading (they thought) to Soho (really they wanted to go to 12 East 12th Street, which is, ahem and thank my lucky stars, not as far).
Another first: I plucked a passenger from the 7th Avenue side of Penn Station. Last night a woman approached me, on that side, asking for a ride - but tonight was the first time I mustered the courage to solicit the line. I found a brave lady heading to 186 Avenue B (which happens to be just next door to Gruppo, one of the restaurants Revolution Rickshaws makes regular deliveries to). I told her $25, she balked, I said $20, she said okay, she gave me $30 when we got there. And enjoyed herself thoroughly, as far as I could tell. "It's so ecological!" she said, as we rolled down 5th Avenue.
There are more stories I could tell (the more rides I give the more stories I gather) but I am tired, and starving, and ready to head home. Stay tuned for the next episode: Halloween weekend! Yippee-yee-yi-yay!
Day of Chronicles: 6
Hours: 5:00-9:15pm
Rides Given: 7
Today's tasks were: To contribute as much as I could (in the way of transportation for those seeking it), to learn as much as I could, and to appear as innocent as possible.
Why this last? Because the police are on a pedicab-ticketing tear. I've not been pulled over yet, but yesterday a policewoman reprimanded a passenger of mine for allowing a limb or two to breach the bounds of the passenger seat, and today a policeman pointedly asked me, on 5th Avenue between 57th & 56th, whether I'd just made a turn. I hadn't - I'd simply had a hard time crossing 57th Street, and gotten stuck north of the crosswalk till the light changed - and I suppose he believed me, because (after repeating the question a couple times) he nodded and moved on. Not sure if he was trying to get me for turning south from 57th Street, or for not having my blinker on. Either way - I really was innocent (that time)!
My best passengers of the night were two ladies (visiting from Maryland, I think) whom I picked up at the northeast corner of 8th & 31st. I said sure I'd take them to 57th Street, but they didn't have cash, so I moved on. And then, thirty seconds later, they came running over and asked if it would work for us to stop at an ATM. One of them said she'd always wanted to take a pedicab, but hadn't yet had a chance. (That, I must say, was a heartening thing to hear.) As we drove up 6th Avenue, the two of them (being young, attractive, vivacious, and very well put-together) were getting (and returning) shout-outs from passersby, taking in the sights, and generally enjoying the heck out of their experience in an open-air conveyance. Bet that part of their NYC experience is gonna make it into a status update....
Tonight, for perhaps the first time, I convinced a couple very reluctant people to take a ride (often I do take no for answer). I just kept talking till they got in. However: Their getting in was a mixed blessing, since they ended up aborting the ride less than halfway to their purported destination. Oh well. A couple blocks farther down 7th Avenue I picked up a much more willing couple heading (they thought) to Soho (really they wanted to go to 12 East 12th Street, which is, ahem and thank my lucky stars, not as far).
Another first: I plucked a passenger from the 7th Avenue side of Penn Station. Last night a woman approached me, on that side, asking for a ride - but tonight was the first time I mustered the courage to solicit the line. I found a brave lady heading to 186 Avenue B (which happens to be just next door to Gruppo, one of the restaurants Revolution Rickshaws makes regular deliveries to). I told her $25, she balked, I said $20, she said okay, she gave me $30 when we got there. And enjoyed herself thoroughly, as far as I could tell. "It's so ecological!" she said, as we rolled down 5th Avenue.
There are more stories I could tell (the more rides I give the more stories I gather) but I am tired, and starving, and ready to head home. Stay tuned for the next episode: Halloween weekend! Yippee-yee-yi-yay!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Getting Stronger
Date: 21 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 5
Hours: 5:00-7:45pm
Rides Given: 5
Of the five rides I gave today, three originated with the passengers flagging me down. I'm beginning to believe that there really are such things as good nights and bad nights, busy nights and dead nights, i.e., that whether I do well does depend, at least in part, on factors other than my verve, wit, and gumption.
I was taking some serious trips to the bargain basement tonight - quoting prices as low as ten and twelve dollars (thank goodness I got some big tips). I suppose I do that in defense of being shut out, going home with nothing. I'd rather give a bunch of low-priced rides than wander around empty. At least when I'm providing transportation I'm getting stronger, learning the city, solving routing problems that could crop up again in the future. Right now, as well, I'm preparing for Halloween: By the time it comes, I want to be strong enough (both in mind and body) fully to take advantage of one of the few days out of the year when pedicabs are all the rage.
Speaking of something being all the rage: I was just reading in The Wall Street Journal that the best way to train people to adopt green behaviors is to convince them that everyone else has already adopted them. I do think it's true that a taxi-seeker watching a paying passenger emerge from a pedicab, after a satisfactory ride, is more likely to take that pedicab herself. (It's also true that once one passenger in a subway car gives money to a musician or panhandler, others are more likely to.) I wonder how else the power of peer pressure can be brought to bear on weaning the masses off yellow cabs?
How's this for a pitch: "Hey, where are you guys going? How about taking a pedicab? Everybody's taking them."
Day of Chronicles: 5
Hours: 5:00-7:45pm
Rides Given: 5
Of the five rides I gave today, three originated with the passengers flagging me down. I'm beginning to believe that there really are such things as good nights and bad nights, busy nights and dead nights, i.e., that whether I do well does depend, at least in part, on factors other than my verve, wit, and gumption.
I was taking some serious trips to the bargain basement tonight - quoting prices as low as ten and twelve dollars (thank goodness I got some big tips). I suppose I do that in defense of being shut out, going home with nothing. I'd rather give a bunch of low-priced rides than wander around empty. At least when I'm providing transportation I'm getting stronger, learning the city, solving routing problems that could crop up again in the future. Right now, as well, I'm preparing for Halloween: By the time it comes, I want to be strong enough (both in mind and body) fully to take advantage of one of the few days out of the year when pedicabs are all the rage.
Speaking of something being all the rage: I was just reading in The Wall Street Journal that the best way to train people to adopt green behaviors is to convince them that everyone else has already adopted them. I do think it's true that a taxi-seeker watching a paying passenger emerge from a pedicab, after a satisfactory ride, is more likely to take that pedicab herself. (It's also true that once one passenger in a subway car gives money to a musician or panhandler, others are more likely to.) I wonder how else the power of peer pressure can be brought to bear on weaning the masses off yellow cabs?
How's this for a pitch: "Hey, where are you guys going? How about taking a pedicab? Everybody's taking them."
Saturday, October 16, 2010
The Failure of Positive Thinking
Date: 16 October 2010
Day of Chronicles:4
Hours: 4:30-6:30pm
Rides Given: 0
After tonight I feel like I never want to do this again. Two hours of rolling around Midtown, no takers, knowing if I just had a bit more gumption I'd be doing fine. The trouble is, when people say no up front - as they almost always do - I almost never argue. Unless I'm on a roll, feeling confident. Which usually doesn't happen till I've given a ride, and started building an endorphin high. I suppose it ought to be empowering to know I create my own reality, etc. - that if I persisted I could do quite well - but on nights like this it registers as a bummer. Yup, I'm riding around passengerless and yup, it's my own damn fault. Another line of work, anyone?
Day of Chronicles:4
Hours: 4:30-6:30pm
Rides Given: 0
After tonight I feel like I never want to do this again. Two hours of rolling around Midtown, no takers, knowing if I just had a bit more gumption I'd be doing fine. The trouble is, when people say no up front - as they almost always do - I almost never argue. Unless I'm on a roll, feeling confident. Which usually doesn't happen till I've given a ride, and started building an endorphin high. I suppose it ought to be empowering to know I create my own reality, etc. - that if I persisted I could do quite well - but on nights like this it registers as a bummer. Yup, I'm riding around passengerless and yup, it's my own damn fault. Another line of work, anyone?
Friday, October 15, 2010
Back in the High Seat Again
Date: 15 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 3Hours: 4:30-6:00pm, 7:00-8:00pm
Rides Given: 2 (not counting the arranged ride in the middle of the night)
I've been away from New York for a week, visiting friends in Midcoast Maine, and away from pedicabbing for almost two weeks. Yes, upon returning to crowds and grime, after immersion in fresh air and open space, I wondered why I live here. I often wonder why I live here. There's not much space for food-growing, and what food I do grow is beleaguered by auto exhaust and heating oil ash. Humans, and human-made sounds (whose jagged waves, I read recently, are harsher on the ears than the rounded waves of nature) predominate. At work, a constant stream of vehicles screeches towards the Tunnel; at home, the Rock Rose building's monstrous HVAC system roars in the background.
And that is one of the reasons I decided, once again, to try pedicabbing: If you can't beat the deafening human presence, you might as well join it. If the thought of shoving your way through Times Square at rush hour gives you the willies, why not turn that crush to your advantage? The larger the crowd - the more overwhelming the crush - the better the chance that a pedicab driver will find a taxi seeker desperate enough to entertain a pedal-powered alternative.
Today was hard. I'd lost momentum. I had to rebuild my confidence in a practice that was seeming, as a result of a couple weeks' dissociation, thoroughly surreal. Luckily, I was able to partake in an arranged ride, so I was guaranteed to make something. In addition, I rustled up two other rides (one to The View, which I discovered was not a hotel, and the other to the gypsy-bus-to-New-Jersey side of the Port Authority). I'm chalking this evening up to easing back into things; tomorrow, I have reason to believe, I'll do better.
One question I'd like to remember, in hard times to come: What can I contribute? It's pretty easy to get caught up in feeling worthless, when the tenth person tells you she wants to go fast, or stay warm, or go far, and therefore needs a gas-guzzler. It's a bit harder - but far more rewarding - to focus on finding someone in search (consciously or not) of my services. Higher power, grant me the serenity to accept the people who insist on a gas-guzzler no matter what, the courage to persuade those who are open to pedal power, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Friday, October 1, 2010
The Little Underbidder Who Could
Date: 1 October 2010
Day of Chronicles: 2
Hours: 4:15-8:00pm
Rides Given: 5
After circling for an hour, I picked up two Catholic priests (from Mexico, currently stationed in Jerusalem, dressed in official black, with the white collar and everything) at Forty-Seventh and Sixth. How much to go to the Met, they asked. Twenty bucks, I said, just wanting to get in the game and not exactly sure (I'm ashamed to say) where the Met was.
A half hour later, when the priests exited, the larger one said, "We had no idea how far it was!"
That made three of us.
Now I know: Eighty-Second and Fifth. Two not-so-gentle hills. In the future, that will not be a twenty-dollar ride.
However: The upside of the ordeal is that I am now confident that I can haul two men, one hefty, the other slender, from Midtown to the Met.
Which came in handy later in the evening, when a dude at Thirty-Fourth and Sixth, headed with his date to a sake bar in Union Square, tried to put me off by saying, "You don't want to pedal that far!"
"Are you kidding?" I said, "I just took two guys up to the Met, a couple hours ago! Come on, live a little!"
They got in. When I dropped them off, they marveled at what great exercise it must be. "You don't even have to work out!"
Damn straight! And what doesn't defeat me makes me stronger.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
First Ride of the New Age
Date: 29 September 2010
Day of Chronicles: 1
Hours: 5:30-7:30pm
Rides Given: 1
First day back on the streets.
I was busy discreetly weeping at a red light in Times Square (after circling, rideless, for an hour and a half, and receiving a particularly snide "No, thank you" from a young business couple on Sixth Avenue - yes, I need to develop a thicker skin) when a middle-aged gentleman with a soft southern accent approached and asked, “How far do you go?” (yes, this was a serious inquiry; no, it was not a come-on). I said, "As far as you’re going, as long as it’s not over a bridge." He and his female companion climbed in, and I drove them, without incident, to Fifteenth Street and Fifth Avenue.
Back when I used to hitch-hike, I believed it was important to discern why someone was giving me a ride - if I couldn't discern an honorable motive, then perhaps there was a dishonorable one, and I had better not get in (or, in instances of grave misjudgment, find a way to bail). People who take pedicab rides, like people who pick up hitch-hikers, are the exception rather than the rule. And so, I reason, each of my passengers must also have a reason. What makes these few, among the hundreds insisting on taxicabs, willing to take a chance on a vehicle that doesn't guzzle gas?
In this case the man - visiting from Charlotte, North Carolina - seemed to think this was simply a legitimate Yankee form of transportation (I gleaned from the respectful tone of his initial approach). The woman, a New Yorker, said she'd seen pedicabs around, but had always been too drunk to think about taking one, or too busy walking. Both commented on what a lovely night it was, and how pleasant to be out in it, as we rolled downtown.
In the past I’ve been very worried about getting people places fast – and sometimes that’s what they want. Sometimes they're rushing to make a train, or get to a show. But this pair clearly wasn’t in a hurry. So I maintained an even pace, kept lung-burn at bay, and enjoyed the solid satisfaction of pulling weight down a newly smooth Seventh Avenue - which reminded me of how much fun I used to have (on a farm in North Carolina) pushing wheelbarrow loads of sand, heavier in front, over a level dirt path. I suppose it's possible to find gainful ways to exert oneself, no matter where one lives.
Prolog: How I Got Hooked on Giant Tricycles
Let's start with the back story:
I learned how to ride a giant trike in October 2008, when I started working for Revolution Rickshawscargo courier. I spent the next seven months hauling loads of five to a thousand pounds, fifteen to forty hours per week: Cupcakes, fruit bouquets, gift baskets. Cheese, catering, wine. Juice, pizza crust, hard drives. In that time I participated in a couple group-transfers, arranged by RR, but barely considered hitting the streets, on a pedicab, as a free agent. It was hard enough pedaling a one-hundred-seventy-pound trike in traffic; it seemed thoroughly daunting to be responsible for selling my services on the spot, on top of that. as a
But I couldn't completely dismiss the prospect of pedicabbing. I knew that it held great potential for generating both exhilaration and cash flow. So, in October 2009, I decided to try it. I wanted to see if (prove?) I could do it. I started pedaling a few evenings a week, during rush hour. I made a bunch of money on Halloween, and experienced the Bangladesh rush (that is, the rare thrill of rounding Columbus Circle amidst a massive swarm of rickshaws) on Marathon Sunday. I also despaired, many times, of ever getting another fare. Sick of the cycle of highs and lows, I quit towards the end of November. I'd proven (to my satisfaction) that I could indeed make money driving a pedicab and, I figured, that was good enough.
Fast forward a good ten months, to late September 2010. I'm just back from a month at an artists' colony, and less than excited about returning to my desk job. Halloween's coming up, once again, and though I know I may fail, I decide to give the streets another try. This time, though, I'm going to keep track of the highs and lows. I'm going to tell the stories that make the practice of pedicabbing fascinating, whether it's going well or badly. And, though I by no means claim to be a typical pedicab driver, I'm going to attempt to create something for which I've so far searched in vain: A faithful chronicle of the process of learning, day by day, profitably to drive a giant tricycle through the miraculous madness of my city, Manhattan.
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