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Looking
north on Park Avenue and 72nd Street. 5:15 PM. Photo: JH.
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Big
Yellow Taxi Story. On Wednesday
I caught a cab in my neighborhood to travel to midtown to Michael’s for
lunch (55th between Fifth and Sixth). I left the house with my
Sony Digital thinking maybe it would come in handy somewhere
along the way. I carry it with its strap around my wrist so that
I don’t drop it or leave it behind.
It was a cold day and so I was also wearing a pair of gloves; very
nice leather gloves someone gave me as a Christmas gift, something
I’d never buy for myself (the nice part). I have a thing
about nice (and expensive) leather gloves: I’m always afraid
I’m going to lose them. Because I have — several times
in my life. I lost a nice new pair just around this time last year.
Also a gift.
Midtown traffic has been very bad during the run up to
the holidays. Too many cars. It drives everybody nuts. The cabbies don’t
make out if they’re stuck in traffic and the passengers are
fuming about getting there late. I was carrying on to the point
where I was driving the cabbie nuts along with the traffic jam.
It was so bad that by 55th and Madison, I decided I’d get
there faster on foot. The fare was $8.90. I gave the cabbie a two-dollar
tip since he had to put up with my belly-aching and he was losing
out anyway.
As I started to walk toward Fifth, I was suddenly
aware how it wasn’t as cold as I’d thought it would
be when I left the house. I wasn’t wearing gloves and
my hands weren’t
cold. Hey, wait a minute ... didn’t I take my gloves
when I left the house? At that moment I realized that I left them
in
the cab. I turned around, as if to run for it. Too late; he was
long gone.
I started beating up on myself up for being such an idiot. I had
made a cell phone call from the cab during the ride (calling the
restaurant to tell my guest I’d be late). It must have been
when I’d taken off the gloves. Idiot!
I got to the restaurant, whining about my stupid irresponsible
memory, blah blah blah. Nicole at the reservations desk told me
to calm down and offered to call the taxi 311 number to report
the loss. Which she very kindly did.
After lunch that I realized I’d left my camera too. I must
have taken it from around my wrist because that was the hand I
hold the phone in (I’m a leftie). Damn! Dumb! Stupid!
Irresponsible idiot! Those were the thoughts running through my mind. Those,
and the cost of replacing everything. |
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I
left the restaurant and walked a few blocks with
my lunch partner. I consoled myself: they were just possessions,
David, and losing them wasn’t the worst thing in the
world. There was also a lingering thought, that I’d
get them back. Although, if someone got into the cab after
me and found them, how would they know who they belonged
to anyway. How would the cabbie know? He didn’t have
my name. Drat!
After I left my friend off, I hailed cab to take me home. I got out the cell
and called 311 again. I did have my fare receipt, however; I always ask for the
receipt. Fare receipts have the cab’s medallion number, the time of pick
up and arrival, the mileage, and the fare.
I got a woman on the phone, and when I gave her the cab’s medallion number,
she gave me the number of the company of the cab company. I called. Another very
patient woman took my information, put me on hold, and called the driver. A moment
later, she came back on the line: the driver had my gloves and my camera! Wow! And
would it be all right, she wanted to know, if he called me? All right???
I hung up and five minutes later he called. It was the end of his day and he
was actually already on his way back to the cab depot in the Bronx. I asked if
maybe he could take the stuff home and bring it in tomorrow. When he heard where
I lived and realized that it wasn’t that long a ride from where he was,
he said he’d come right over, instead.
I wanted to reward him. I didn’t know how much. Calculating the cost of
my loss (if I hadn’t got anything back), I figured it would be about $800
to replace everything (not that I’d replace those expensive gloves). So
I decided on $150.
Fifteen minutes later, the yellow cab pulled up on my corner. The guy put down
the passenger window and handed me my goods. He told me he hadn’t seen
them on the back seat but that the passenger after me had said: “I’ve
got myself a new pair of gloves and a camera!”
He persuaded the passenger to hand them over, thinking that I might come looking
for them.
And why did he think that? I asked. He didn’t know except I’d given
him a good tip at a hard time, and he hoped I’d get my things back.
When I gave him his reward his face lit up in astonishment. “Whoa!! “ he
said, “Thank you!”
“No, thank you!” I said.
“Happy holidays to you, man!”
“Happy holidays to you!”
I wore my new and new-found gloves when I went out to dinner last night. When
I took them off, I put them in my pockets. The camera I left at home, along with
the phone.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Holidays, love and peace and thanks to
all our brothers and sisters who look after each other, and thanks to all our
NYSD readers for visiting. |
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