NY2012

Eduardo. The Cabbie Of Love

After The Scariest Cab Ride EVER, I admit I was afraid to leave New York. But as soon as Eduardo pulled up to the Sheraton, I knew everything was going to be fine. As soon as the door closed he said: “Ah, beautiful lady, today your lucky day. I will be your cabbie. I will take care of you.” I believed him because he said I was beautiful and he had a Spanish accent.

Here then, are some of the comments Eduardo made, while weaving in and out of traffic:

 

 

EDUARDO: I believe in the positive energy, you know?

ME: Ah. Okay.

EDUARDO: You married or single?

ME: (slight awkward pause wondering why he was asking) Married. Yep. Happily married. (I was afraid he was going to try to ‘romance’ me into going somewhere with him.)

EDUARDO: What music you listen to?

ME: What do you mean?

EDUARDO: What music? You know? At the wedding?

ME: Uhhh… (How could I explain Kealoha’s music interests? Lounge music, polka, and Elvis?) I don’t remember. We had mai tais and mojitos. I think there was singing.

EDUARDO: Ha! Well? What music makes you romantic? Romantic is good, positive energy.

ME: Uh? Sinatra?

EDUARDO: Boom! Bam! Here you go!

 

Suddenly, Sinatra singing “My Kind Of Town” filled the cab. Eduardo giggled.

 

EDUARDO: Where you from, beautiful lady?

ME: Michigan.

EDUARDO: Ah! Big lake there! Big water! Not Chicago though. I don’t have a song about Michigan.

ME: It’s okay. This is good.

EDUARDO: It’s lucky day for you, lady.

 

We drove for a while and listened to Sinatra croon.

After that, Eduardo continued:

 

EDUARDO: I like everything. Everything is good. I like music. I understand. Music makes everything better so you don’t sit in cab all mad, yes? You relax. You enjoy. What song you want next? Pick anything! Anything at all! But not hip hop or rap or R&B. That not good energy.

ME: Why don’t you pick something? I’m kinda tired.

EDUARDO: I will pick something romantic for you. I will pick something for you that tells you who I am. It is beautiful. Bunky-punky-bomonkey! Here you go:

 

Then he played something that was very late 70s or early 80s something. Something you’d hear on EZ LITE 100 or something. I could just see the video with a guy with a mullet staring out into the darkness, his mullet ruffling in the breeze, and the camera panning to a dude in skinny suspenders playing a saxophone. I mean, it was BAD. There was one lyric I tried to remember so I could look up the song. “Another Lonely Night In New York”.

 

EDUARDO: You know who that is? It’s that dead guy.

ME: Oh?

EDUARDO: Yeah! Gibb! Robin Gibb! So beautiful.

 

This is when the cab ride became surreal. Eduardo then played for me some ‘beautiful, romantic music’ that included “The Lady In Red” and some more really lite music that had synthesizers and videos that surely had random pictures in soft focus of like a lion walking toward the viewer, or a room with a black and white checkered floor. Then we pulled up to the airport. Eduardo and I said our goodbyes. He said the plane ride might be a little choppy, but I would be fine. I believed him, because when Eduardo tells you something, you just listen.

 

To share his magic, here then, is Eduardo’s favorite song. Enjoy:

Scariest Cab Ride Ever

Rae and I got gussied up for dinner. She wore a slinky sundress where men actually stopped her on the street to say: “You look FINE”. One guy ran two blocks calling after her “Summer! Summer!” I thought he was being poetic, but he actually thought she was someone named Summer. I was wearing a blue dress where women on the street stopped to ask me if I could carry large baskets propped on my hips. It just wasn’t fair.

Rae, needless to say, hailed the cabs for us. One guy saw her lifting her slinky arm and he pulled over so fast, flames erupted from the tire’s wheels. That should have been a sign.

 

Rae said: “We’re going to 6th Avenue and Cornelia stree…” before she even finished the sentence, the cab driver took off, pushing Rae and me back into our seat with the sheer velocity. You know those car chases in movies where a cab is weaving in and out of traffic, nearly hits people, sends fruit carts flying? Well that was us. In between trying to breathe and passing out from fear, I checked the speedometer. He was driving 70mph IN MANHATTAN RUSH HOUR.

Rachel tried to talk me through the experience, the way a dentist asks you questions you can’t really answer because there’s an enormous shot in your mouth. I started laughing uncontrollably when he nearly took out a rickshaw.

“Can’t. Breathe.” I said.

“You want to hold hands?” Rae asked.

“Okay.”

Another five minutes of our cabbie trying to outrun a demon and I’d had enough. We came to a stop and I just couldn’t contain it and said “YOU ARE SCARING THE CRAP OUT OF ME!!!” Then I started laughing. Rae started laughing. The cab driver started laughing. “I mean, I don’t want to offend you, you’re clearly a really good driver, but are you TRYING to give me a heart attack? When is this going to be over?”

The cab driver said (in an actual New York accent which I haven’t heard in forever) “I’m sorry. We’re all okay here. Everything is okay.”

“Do you play video games?” I asked, because talking made the terror easier to bear.

“Only game I ever played was Donkey Kong.”

“Ah. Okay,” I said, and then: “So it’s just a natural talent for driving like a maniac, and not created by too many hours of Grand Theft Auto.” I didn’t say that last part actually, but I wanted to.

The cabbie gently pulled over and came to a stop. He smiled and I think shot us a salute once we got out of the car, but it was hard to see because of all the flames.

Scariest experience ever.

 

And it was also a tiny bit thrilling.

First Day In New York And I Don't Have Any Blisters

And now, coming to you straight from the hotel lobby of the Marriott Marquis in Times Square where weird Zen music is burbling from seventy speakers…I bring you…(drumroll) My Blog!!!

I really wish you could hear this music. There are harps and water sounds, a little bass, and what sounds like auto-tuned farting. Any minute a cherub is going to float by. It just isn’t my thing.

So. Okay.

My flight left yesterday at 6AM, so poor Kealoha drove me to the airport a little after 4AM. That’s fucking early. I was nervous and anxious and then I saw the new Time Magazine cover. Now I know Time is trying to be all edgy and whatnot and get you to buy their magazine, BUT THIS IS NOT THE PICTURE YOU WANT TO SEE WHEN YOU’RE AFRAID OF FLYING AND ABOUT TO GET ON A PLANE:

 

Sorry for shouting. But seriously. I hate your face, Time Magazine.

I took a Valium. (Thank you unused-portion of medicine from my root canal. I love you, Root Canal. )

Took a leisurely cab ride into the city and I felt relaxed and calm. Usually when I come to New York, I’m all freaking out and “I’m in New York! Look at the building! Look at all the people! I like puppies!” This time I was laid back and real coolio-man. Just like an old-time beatnik. Of course, I was wearing all black and a beret, so that helped.

Walked around the Upper West side for a while, and found my favorite ‘secret spot’ which me and about 1.5 million other people know about it. Ate a salad. Relaxed.

My friend Rae joined me around 2 and we were off for wine, food and conversation.

There’s a lot I can and will say about this, but I don’t want this to be the longest blog ever, so I’ll write another blog later. In short, it’s good to be in the city, good to have some time here on my own, even better to have some time with my two closest, oldest friends. There’s something intensely refreshing about spending time with people who know you so well they can say: “You know Tanya is going to crash around 9, so let’s go out now before we lose her.” And there’s no judgment there.

I made it until 11:30 and then Kim and Rae tucked me in and went off to Times Square without me. They’re upstairs sleeping now.

Today, we’re off to do whatever we want. We have no plans, except to hopefully see “Ghost”.

Later I’ll blog about what happened with Rae and I last night. It involved the Scariest Cab Ride ever, and pasta so good that I actually moaned a little bit.

And I’ll post some actual pictures once I find the cord to my camera. It’s lost in the black abyss of my luggage.