The one exception to my general quest for cheapness is my love for cabs. Taking a cab can be like an angel coming down from heaven and saving you from the jaws of a crocodile before you're about to go into the death spin.
Imagine this scenario... You're cold and alone, you're going to have to take multiple trains. The trains are going to be delayed. The conductor will pass you up and give you the finger for fun. Maybe you are waiting for a train that only runs on Wednesdays between 4:30-7 when the moon is full, but you didn't know. If you ever get on the train, you're probably on the wrong train, or going the wrong way, or the train schedule has changed. Odds are a homeless man will masturbate in front of you. Then you have to walk in the snow. By the time you get to your destination, the party is over and you are ready to end the whole mess before you'd go back into the labyrinth of public transportation. You'll probably wake up in an abandoned hotdog stand in Coney Island with a used condom in your pocket, a needle in your hand, and a handful of baby carrots scattered on your bare chest.
Or...you can just take a cab. If $10 can prevent this kind of pscyhological derangement and emotional scarring, I say that's a value buy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I will walk across a windy LIC drawbridge at midnight for a shorter commute. I will squeeze myself like a contortionist into a horridly-packed 6 train to get to class on time. And I know that the R doesn't run after midnight, the E runs local after midnight, the V doesn't run on the weekends and the L skips 3rd Avenue when it feels like it. Despite my dedication to and knowledge of the NYC subway system, I WILL NOT take the G at 2am when I'm sick, in Williamsburg, with 3 Astorians, 5 minutes from home and 1 block from a car dispatcher.
Cabs make you feel like a Queen for a brief and lovely passing moment.
A Fucking Queen I tell you.
Here, here.
Turns out "here here" should read "hear hear."
I checked.
Post a Comment