Downtown Manhattan


Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan, Waiting for an Ocean Liner


Burrough Park, Brooklyn

peace and quiet

Always, peaceful, that's why I love this job. I drive a big box of sanctity while still keeping in touch with the outside flows of traffic.

Anyway I was lucky enough to drop off at the W and then pick-up.

"Do you need any singles?"-says the doorman.

"No I'm good," I show my wad of about 10 singles.

"Good day ma'am, and how are you doing this fine day."-doorman

yakadeey shmakadee...

"Javitz Center"- doorman

"Thank you very much sir"- I, myself that is

The woman gets in and says very soon, "Aren't sundays in the city so wonderful?"

"I couldn't agree more, sundays are my favorite days"

But then silence fell upon us. there just wasn't anything to add to this. A couple kissed in front of us before entering their cab, and it was done with great timing all while the traffic light was red. I honked a few times because this was a common path to the Lincoln Tunnel, or because it was a popular street to look for parking. If I were looking for parking, or going to the Lincoln Tunnel, I'd prefer not to take this street, but people are stupid.

Why blog about this? Because I wondered what exhibition was at the Javits Center, but I was afraid to ask. I already said "sundays are my favorite days." did I really want to further my douche status by asking what show are you going to jee golly, to this stimulating conversation.

So we arrive shortly, and she pays.

"What show is here?"

SLAM... she left

Other Links

I have a complex that makes me think I am not doing the best I can at whatever I do. Due to this, I give you two links I think you will enjoy.

The first is the best story I ever read in this taxi blogosphere:

CLICK: Spring training


The second link is a website for a faculty photographer from my old school. enter the site, go to portfolio, and then "Exile Brighton Beach"

CLICK: Brighton Beach

I hope this keeps y'all busy, thats right, I said y'all, now I got to get outside.

Downtown Manhattan

Far West Side, Manhattan

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Upper-East Side, Manhattan

Williamsburg, Brooklyn

between villages, Manhattan

Downtown Manhattan

LaGuardia Airport, Flushing, Queens

Meatpacking District, Manhattan

Manhattan

"The Cash Cab" possibly debunked

A friend of mine and I were walking around Union Square the other day, when I noticed "The Cash Cab". I was sure this was "The Cash Cab" because I had on several occasions seen this same taxi, parked or driving slowly with visual recording equipment both in the trunk, and following closely behind in a large grey van.

Before I continue, "The Cash Cab" is a reality quiz show where passengers are picked up and asked New York trivia questions as they travel to their destination. Each question may be worth 100 or 200 even 500 to 1000 dollars I think. What an amazing idea, I thought as I watched one episode.

Upon watching the show, there seemed only one lie in the program. Upon receiving a destination, 7th avenue and 23rd street, from 6th avenue and west 4th, the driver chose to take Greenwich Avenue west to 8th avenue, and then he made a right on 23rd street, when he could have taken 6th avenue to 23rd street. The passengers didn't mind, because they were not paying a fare. Still taxi rules are to take the most direct path. This fare had gotten extra traffic lights, and extra miles, and extra questions. The driver had an earpiece or a Bluetooth set in his left ear, so it was clear that management was telling him the directions.

A few months later I had begun seeing "The Cash Cab." Of course it took me a while to believe that this very taxi was it. After all, this taxi could have been set up for a commercial. But, the driver of the van was the same driver in the show, the meter inside had extra doohickeys, the windows were covered with dark tint, and there were fluorescent bulbs running up the a-pillars. I am sorry I digress so much, but I get to my point eventually. I saw it twice more, one of those times I saw the camera crew hoping in and out of the cab to test the metering and focus I suppose. The trunk was wide open and inside was a whole smorgasbord of electricals. I wondered how they could ever take someone to the airport. I also found it strange that a cab was waiting at times with it's engine running and therefore, with it's light on. Why wasn't anyone asking for a ride? How come I have seen this cab several times, but each time, it never rides empty? If they were really taking people from the street randomly, wouldn't they just ask people to hop in? I never got up the nerve to ask for a ride. New York works on a fabulous system where if you raise a hand or even point too much, three cabs play chicken to serve you. So I felt as though asking for a ride would be an embarrassment to my tenure as a New Yorker, besides the fact that I drive a taxi might make me ineligible.

So, I saw the taxi van with the black tinted windows followed by a large grey van, make the left on to 16th street from Union Square East. The front passenger in the van held his video camera out the side and aimed it as best he could at the taxi. Another noticeable difference in this taxi is its advertisement. This taxi has a light on top with a cone advertiser like so many others, but the ad is merely a nice picture of the city skyline, with no words, no actual advertisement. It also has some sort of mark on the ad, possibly for holding the camera on the roof.

We followed the car like it was a Leprechaun. Luckily it was headed for more red lights of course! We walked at a fast pace, but we soon realized how close we were, and we started to run. The grey van put on a right turn signal. So we J-ran across 16th and then I ran to the corner or 14th street and Irving Place. My friend kept pace with the two vehicles. The taxi pulled up at the corner, and we watched. Compared to a real taxi driver’s lifestyle, the pace of this program was ridiculously slow. I had just beaten the taxi to it's own destination, and now it stood there at the "No Standing" corner, waiting, for what I wasn't sure. I couldn't see through the passenger windows because they were too dark. A second crewmember sat in the front of the taxi. About 5 minutes later, the man in the grey van came out and started shooting the taxi, the door slid open, and two men who looked to be around 23, came out with their briefcases and headphones.

"Shit!" The taller doofier one shouted. He kicked his right rear leg to the sidewalk. The other didn't express much.

We got bored of watching the fake show and walked west. I pointed out the two contestants to my friend as we were walking. He had enough guts to ask them about the show. So we approached them.

Friend- So how was the "Cash Cab"?

Contestant- It's rigged man, and we lost 700 dollars.

Me- Well you didn't lose 700 dollars right? You just didn't win any money?

Contestant- I guess I could look at it more positively like that.

Friend- How can you get on the show?

Contestant- It is totally rigged. We answered a call somewhere, and someone told us that when the lady from "Cash Cab" calls us, we have to pretend we're surprised. A friend of mine told me about it.

So there you have it folks. Another show with a good idea, but lies from every angle. At least somebody can win a lot of money, but it's too bad it's not as random as it should be. It would be a much better show if it were.

Midtown, Manhattan

Midtown, Manhattan

What is cheeky?

A guy and three girls get in at the meatpacking district, they are all in good spirits. The guy just met all three, and showed them to a few bars, he was their tour guide of the moment, and all three girls were British. Him and me talked of how we loved the East Village, then we were both quizzed about our neighborhoods where we were raised and also on television shows we watched. They were all such likable people.

"What's yaw favohrit telavishun program?" One asked as she poked her head through the partition like a happy puppy. She rattled off just two names, Silver spoons and Different Strokes.

"Do you know any American sitcoms that aren't more than ten years old?" he said with an equally euphoric gleeful expression.

Not a minute went by when one of us wasn't laughing.

We came to his stop, and he was very much hoping to take one girl home, my pessimism makes me think it is who ever seems most interested. Really though, they were all really fun people. So he got out of the cab, enjoying some male bonding in the front. He said good-bye to the girls, and we had to wait a while. He said a really long good-bye to one.

"Is your shift ending?" the two ask me as we are forced to watch a show we didn't pay for.

"Actually I just started."

"A line would be really good right there."

Oh, bugger. The fare increased a buck, so I decide to tell the two hugging that we should go, on account of the meter, which has increased by a buck.

"Only a dollar, what’s a dollar?" he says

Phhh, doesn't make me happy, but I insist on believing these are good people. They ask to borrow my clipboard so they can poke her in her butt. I also entertain by driving the car in reverse with the door open right up to the couple to maybe remind them that an accommodating cab was waiting.

Eventually he leaves and she gets back in with the rest. They talk the rest of the way about their man successes on this trip to New York. She evaluates him as "cheeky". They wondered how young this other guy was that approached them the day before. He was really small, but his big hair made up for his height, he overcompensated. I drop them off and tell them they were very enjoyable, mostly because of their accents.

"What base did I reach?" She asked me.

How interesting, since they play cricket and not baseball, the whole bases game was new to them. But much like "Silver spoons," I'd like to think we Americans no longer use bases to relate to romance because there hasn't been an approved unit of measure to symbolize any specifics.

"It is different for everyone." I said, "Everyone has a different definition." I was really trying to figure this out and map out her progress according to medians averages and what is deemed suitable.

"Well he touched me on my bum."

Well this changed everything. I remember a former apartment-mate of mine was very excited about her guy touching her on her butt. This must mean a lot I thought. "WELL OH, he touched you on your BUM. A touch on the bum is definitely second base," I exclaimed, with a smile to match their excitement.

"Oh your cheeky."

Chinatown, Manhattan

Astoria, Queens

An old friend

So last sunday I saw a friend of mine, an old friend. I had already dropped off fares two seperate times at this NoHo corner and even picked up once, so I figured I'd idle here as the sun came up. There were three groups of friends who'd forgotten about time or even the presence of the sun. They'd been standing there hours upon hours talking about nothing in particular and enjoying every moment of the present. I get impatient quickly, and this was no exception at first. I waited five minutes and was about to give up on my prediction that they would go for an impulse cab buy. then I saw someone who I hadn't seen in years, and so it became more interesting. he was wearing a hoody, and some fancy boots, but he held his cigarette the same way, so I studied him for a while until he started to leave with everyone. Yes it was totally him. He was in the same graduating class with me in High School, and he also worked at the same health food store I worked at in the east village about five years ago now. So I called out his name, and eventually someone else who paid more attention to his surroundings started calling his name too. He was surprised to say the least. He knew I would give him a free ride and hoped in with two friends before I offered.

They didn't seem to comprehend the idea of their friend knowing a cab driver, so it was a nice lesson for everyone about social something. He tried to bring me in by mentioning that I was related to Bjork, it got there attention for a brief moment. But when I explained jokingly that my cousin's uncle married, the cousin of her uncle's brother, or some shit, they focused their energy back to the rear of the cab. Neither of the two noticed that the meter was off. He told me staright forward that he was going near the world trade center and that he'd show me when we got there. then the woman, she might have been wearing mink, wanted to go to the west village, but i was already in Chinatown. So I pulled over so we could get on the same page.

"What are you doing?" they exclaim in unison.

"I'm just waiting 'till you figure out where you wanna go."

Then He explains once again that I'm a high school friend of his and that the ride was free. And i clarify that it is free so long as it is just one ride. So down broadway we go. I ask him repeatedly what he's been doing lately, and he gets caught trying to figure out whom he should pay more attention to. He dosen't tell me where he works, but manages to tell me he jerks off twice a week, the woman exclaims that is not nearly enough, I agree, but nobody cares. He asked if I hang out with anyone from high school anymore. I give it some thought. No i guess not. I slow down at Murray,

"Is this where you're going?" I ask.

"lets creep there. oh yes, yes this is the place."

Another story ensues.
They all get out. And he feels a little awkward for a moment,

"hey, so it was nice to see you, uh i guess, I uh.."

"There's always myspace."

It's odd when people drop off the face of the earth. It's about time we realized it's not really possible, and blah blah blah. It was cool to finally have seen a friend and been able to take them somewhere for free. In NYC it is not beneficial to arange this ahead of time, because we might miss a good fare, but sometimes things fall into place. My first week I called out a friend's name at 5am in SoHo, but they were probably freaked so they didn't know it was me.

Far West Side, Manhattan

doth my insomnia fall on a deaf ear?

No story this time. I’m up and its 11:54 pm. I got to wake up at 1am to get out the door by 1:30, to make it to the garage at 2:30. Then I may get the cab, or I may have to wait ‘till just before 3am. Enough stories, I think they aren’t genuine enough. Stories about others aren’t my primary interest, but sometimes they can be intriguing or humorous.

I’m up because of two things; one, I went to Los Angeles for four days to visit some friends who I went to a small college with about three years ago, and two, my left ear is clogged and I wonder if I will ever hear out of it again. I decided that I shouldn’t drive yesterday since my ear was clogged and I managed maybe 3 hours of sleep. My plane arrived at 10:30 pm, and the Jet Blue televisions were just too irresistible. At least there wasn’t a crying baby next to me, there was on my way there.

Anyway I had a lovely time in Los Angeles and I’d like to thank all the friends from the old college and there about, and the friends of friends who kept my stay lively. No thanks to the house cat who was psychotic. She attacked me two out of four mornings. I think I was invading her space. It’s too bad that her space is the kitchen, dinning room, laundry room, and hallway.

I will post again very soon, within two days I figure, with pictures from last weekend’s taxi driving, this past week’s trip to L.A., and possibly a picture or two from this coming shift.

Read me / View me soon peoples