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?
Saturday, November 20, 2010
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)