Cabbies and Crutches
I'm usually not passed over by cabs. I'm not African American, as my husband always says. He shoves me out front and has me pull my shirt sleeve up to display my neon-white arms at night. I'm not old yet, so slowness and smelliness aren't an issue (usually). I'm don't look like I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. Although, once I did and five empty cabs passed me by. I promptly kicked on of the cabs as it passed me by, then when it turned the corner and parked I went over and yelled my head off at the driver.
Alas, cabbies apparently don't like people on crutches because I am yet again flailing wildly whilst empty cabs speed by me shaking their heads "sorry" with that fake grimace like, "Wish I could help, but...." They must be on their way to some pre-arranged pick up. Yeah. That's it.
Someone also needs to tell cabbies not to pull away from you, when you're on crutches, until your feet are sufficiently away from the car. Lest one get two broken feet. I have quickly learned that it is my responsibility to get away from the cab before closing the door, which is the universal sound for "go" to a cabbie.
P.S. Also hold on when boarding the train and finding your seat. They don't wait for you.
P.S.S. I found this photo when I Googled "taxi." First photo. Guess what. In all the world, THAT was the corner I came barreling around and kicked the cab after being passed up by five cabs when I hadn't showered and was in my nasty morning clothes. That last car was the position where the cab parked, and I stood out in the street yelling my bloody head off at him. (See the Disney Store sign? Our apartment is just up the street and over.) What a life!
posted by Jay @ 9:35 PM
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