This is from November, 2004. On the way home from the dentist something really nice happened, Unexpected. Unusual. When I read this I remember and my faith in the world around me is restored. Should explain that they had the same snowflake hanging across Fifth Avenue from the time the Trump Building was first built until 2004–or so it seemed to me–and I lived six or so blocks from it for fifteen years. I wasn’t as great with minor details when I wrote this. In some ways though I was more experimental and possibly interesting. I probably should have put this in on 6/19–my final appointments.
Big Luce has a demanding job that pays OK but not enough to live in New York, and a daughter, Little Luce who will be fourteen on Saturday. The ex lives out of state, and that’s a good thing.
An ex friend of mine, still a friend of Big Luce, and I somehow got her a job that was supposed to be straight manuscript typing job. It wasn’t. I decided to help her. The first day was sheer hell, but by the second day I developed a rhythm and a beat. Then I had to go to the dentist.
My dentist’s office is on Fifth Avenue, two blocks from where I used to live Going there always leaves me feeling strangely nostalgic. It was humid and I was tired; I decided to take a cab home to the Upper West Side.
Historically shift change for cab drivers has always been between 4:00 and 5:30, just when they’re most needed. This was supposed to have changed when they received a recent much needed, but hurtful for the customer, raise.
I was going to give up and walk which I should have been doing anyway, when I saw a woman getting out of a cab. I ran. The cab driver was a handsome Asian-looking man. Fifth Avenue, further down, was a mess of news trucks and people.
“Oh, the snowflake,” I said, “they’re finally changing the snowflake, and putting it up tonight.”
The cab driver didn’t understand what I meant. He thought that I was a tourist who wanted to see Fifth Avenue. I explained that the snowflake was hung over Fifth for the winter.
The cab driver asked me to explain what a snow flake is. I’m still trying. How do you explain the brilliance of one fleck of snow?
The cab driver turned out to be from Nepal and we spent the rest of the ride chit chatting. Just normal conversation; nothing sparkling; nothing out of the ordinary.
When we arrived at my building he refused my fare.
“You can’t. Nobody ever refuses my money.”
“You have soft voice. You very nice. You good to talk to.”
Then he rode away.
Sometimes life is a wonderful thing.
If your conversation was as interesting as your posts, he should not only have refused your fare, but he should have paid you!
Happy Friday, Pia. 🙂
I remember this story. It’s a great story.
It’s weird, isn’t it – among the millions of people that cross our paths, now and again we bump into somebody that we remember…
That’s a very touching New York story – well, just a very touching story. You were probably the first person in his cab that didn’t just bark an address and stare out the window. I like it.
Ah, he gave you the soft voice discount 🙂
What was it, like a giant decorative snowflake?
Loved this one.
i’ve met some mighty nice cabbies in nyc…but have yet to have one refuse my money! i love the optimism and simple joy of this post!
Very sweet, very heartwarming. 🙂
Cab drivers here… well, it would be weird to leave one without knowing their life story… and in San Francisco my most memorable one was from a Jewish, educated New Yorker, who gave it all up to drive a cab in SF… he drove me around my last night in the city as I looked for extra luggage. Our car had already been shipped to Spain you see…
Loved the post!