As most of you know, my strange illness has given me a belly that makes me look about seven months pregnant. After so many years I have been able to find the humour both in the queries and the responses I give to the queries. Sometimes I actually look forward to bizarre responses because they make such good stories. Belly-laugh Fridays is my chance to share these humorous tidbits with all of you. Enjoy.
“Can you take us to the Chelsea Market?” I say, out of breath from running. I’m trying to convince this New York cabbie to actually take us somewhere. My sisters, mother and myself are in New York to celebrate some significant family birthdays. We have been unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab for the last fifteen minutes. I spot this one across the street at a hotel and dash over to it before it disappears.
The driver looks me over and says, “I’m not really supposed to do this. I could lose my license. I’m from Jersey.”
I try to look somewhat pathetic and very pregnant and flash him a smile. “Oh we’ve been trying for so long to get a cab, but we haven’t been able to get one.”
He looks me over again and makes a decision. “Okay, get in.”
I point out my sisters and mother who are waiting for the light to change so they can cross.
He says, “That’s okay,” and then proceeds to do a U turn across six lanes of traffic to pull up smoothly in front of my family.
They all pile in and thank him profusely (being the Canadians that we are). He starts driving and then says,
“You know I really shouldn’t be doing this. I’m from Jersey. I could lose my license. But in her condition (he jerks his thumb at me) I thought I’d better take you.”
We all smile and thank him again and continue smiling to ourselves.
As he drops us off, a tired and harried looking family with a small child look relieved to see him.
“Sorry,” he says without any real remorse, “Can’t take you,” and drives away, tires squealing.
After that I am the designated procurer of cabs.