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.
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