I love to drive. When I go to the airport, I usually leave my car at long term parking and take the airtrain to terminal 5. I find it so much easier to have my car there.
But since my knee has been bothering me and I didn’t want to walk the distance from the airtrain to the gate, I decided to call McRides in Island Park. (McRides changed their name recently to All Island.)
On the ride to the airport, I had a pleasant driver who told me that he lost his job, has a college degree and now he’s a taxi driver, driving people around for a 12 hour shift. He got me thinking about how bad the economy really is. It saddens me to know that there are just too many people without work.
When I came home from Rochester, I called McRides and told them that my plane landed. The man on the other end of the phone instructed me to go to Passenger pick up 4 and look for an orange mini van. It was 10:30 pm.
I stood and waited. I waited for about 10 minutes and then the driver showed up. “You waiting for a cab going to Regent Drive?” he said.
“Yup,” I said and scooted into the van.
“No, no,” he said. “I’m going on Sunrise Highway.” I didn’t want to fight with him but I knew that going on the Southern was much quicker than all the lights on Sunrise.
I mumbled under my breath. I just wanted to get home. It was a long two days and I was exhausted. I just said, “you’re the driver.”
He was driving fast. I closed my eyes. He wanted to talk. So I listened. I found out that he graduated from my High School and we were in school together. At one point, I noticed that he barely stopped at the stop sign that we passed.
Suddenly, I saw headlights flashing. We were being pulled over.
“Oh no,” he said. “I don’t need another ticket. I didn’t do anything. Did I do anything?”
The police officer came to the window. “License and registration,” he said.
“What did I do? What did I do?” the taxi driver asked.
I sat there and shook my head. I can’t believe this was happening. Will I ever get home? I tweeted out.
After about 15 minutes or so, the police officer gave him a warning and he was on his way.
“When am I supposed to get the brake light fixed?” he asked me. “I work at night. I can’t take the car during the day!” His voice was loud and I tried to calm him down telling him it wasn’t worth it.
“Can you read this?” he asked me. “I’m confused. I can’t really read this.” I read him what the police officer handed him. He was getting very nervous and anxious. I just wanted to get home.
We pulled up to my house and he asked me to get behind the drivers side and put my foot on the brake. I did. He screamed, “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
I stepped out of the car. He went in and put his foot on the brake. “Do you see anything?” I told him no. (All I wanted to do was get inside and go to bed.)
I think he sensed it. “Okay, I’m leaving now,” he said. And my wild ride was over. Finally, I could go to sleep to wake up for a 7:30 am meeting!