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Dear Reader,
Usually when I'm in New York City, it's all business. There's never any time to be a tourist. Instead my days are spent hailing cabs and running from appointment to appointment. The first few times I had to flag down a cab, I was a shy girl--raised my hand just a little bit and gave a delicate wave--please pick me. But after losing a few cabs to seasoned New Yorkers, I've become much more aggressive, especially if it's 5 o'clock in the afternoon.
There's no shortage of cabs at 5 p.m., you see plenty of them driving down the street, but their signs are turned off. They're heading back to the shop for a shift change and since they're officially off duty, they can pick and choose their last customer.
"Where are you going?" is the magic question. If it's on the cabby's way home, it's your lucky day and you can catch a ride. Otherwise, he'll wave you off.
It was not my lucky day, last Tuesday when I was in Manhattan. Four cab drivers in a row turned me down and in the middle of switching shoes--heels to tennies, figuring it was going to be a long walk back to my hotel--a young man rode up in his Manhattan Pedicab.
"Hop in," he smiled and tipped his hat. A man on a bike with a passenger cab attached to it--I told him I didn't think so. But he was quick to remind me that he'd already seen four cabbies turn me down. "It'll be fun," he assured me. And the next thing I knew we were weaving in and out of Manhattan rush hour traffic.
When I realized I could easily reach out and touch the cars next to me, I started having second thoughts about my Pedicab decision. Here I was sitting in an open-air car attached to a bicycle, no helmet, no knee pads, and no roll bar. Had "Consumer Reports" done a crash test on these things? But since I'd already committed and we were making good time--this guy could really pedal--I decided to sit back and enjoy the ride.
After a few blocks, I have to admit I did feel a bit like royalty, rolling down the middle of Times Square. When I was in high school, I wasn't the Homecoming Queen, so I never got to sit on the back of an open air convertible and wave at the people along the parade route, but today was my Cinderella day. I gave a royal smile and wave to the "common-folk" we rolled by, who were desperately trying to hail a cab.
Twenty minutes later when we pulled up in front of my hotel, Selim, my Pedicab driver, got off of his bike, opened the door, bowed slightly, took my hand and helped me down from my royal carriage. A slight kiss on the hand, and a handsome tip for my prince and it was "The End" of my storybook ride through the streets of Manhattan.
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
http://www.DearReader.com
READ THE CLASSICS: Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott, and enter the free Penguin Classic's Drawing: http://www.supportlibrary.com/nl/path_go.cfm?x=815&site=19
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