Little Mamma in the Big City

nyc3New York cab drivers should all have GPS units installed in their cars, not so much to show them where they’re going but to show the passenger where they’re going and how many circles they’re driving to get there. I also think all fares should come with a can of whiplash repellent or at the very least a disposable neck brace or collar.

And how much should you tip a cab driver? Do they get the same as a hair dresser or bank teller? And who all should get a tip? It’s been a long time since I’ve traveled anywhere tip-worthy and I’m a bit confused. You tip the guy who takes your bags and the one who hails you a cab at the front door of the hotel. You tip the crazy guy who plays the trumpet poorly on the street corner with his eyes closed so you’re left wondering if he’s blind or if he just thinks you’ll put more money in his hat if he’s not looking directly at you.

nyc2I think you tip the door-holder guy but do you tip the guy in the uniform standing next to the revolving door and smiling at you as you walk in? Do you tip his mom? I’m not sure about all of this. I think I’ll just stuff my bra full of ones and shimmy everywhere I go, letting the bills fall where they may.

Back in the day, I traveled a lot for business. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in big cities across the US but I’ve never been anywhere like New York. People seem to laugh louder here and walk harder, beating the pavement into submission with their feet. I try to walk like them but I’m not sure if I’m doing it right or just look like Laylee on the verge of a fit.

Traffic lights mean nothing to pedestrians here. To cab drivers they’re simply a justification for running people over.


I’m torn between my desire to take pictures of every brick and speck of dirt and the wish to appear like a hip city dweller despite my white sneakers and wide-eyedness. I’m beginning to think the secret to this is weaving boldly through the speeding cars with no apparent concern for health or safety. I think it will take more than 2 days in the city to cultivate this type of peer-pressure-induced kamikazality.

And the honking. There is a lot. And sirens. And crazy people. And hot dogs.

The cars outside my window sound like a river and I’m smiling because my cab driver was honked at multiple times by other cab drivers and I think this means we won.

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