Taxicab Etiquette.

So I spent last week catching up on some more Broadway Shows, which I will
write about soon.
This meant shlepping into the city from Darien Connecticut.
This is fine in the daytime.
But at night, one is faced with the prospect of there being no cabs at the
train station when I return, thus having to deal with a somewhat ornery wife,
whom I have to awaken from a somewhat ornery sleep, to pick me up.
This is something I try to avoid at all costs.
The elements are also an element.
It's far worse if there are no cabs and it is pouring rain.
There was pouring rain last Tuesday night.
And there was one taxi sitting there unoccupied.
I make my way into it.
The driver spots what looked like a homeless man sitting on the steps of the
train station, undergoing the process of getting drenched.
He asks this man if he'd like to share the cab.
He does not ask me if it's all right with me if this man shares the cab with
me.
He simply offers this opportunity to this apparently homeless man to apparently
at least get out of the rain.
Under the circumstances, I had no objections, save for the fact that it was my
cab, and the driver didn't ask my permission to have someone to share the cab
with me.
This was mitigated as I had no objections under the circumstances.
The miserable creature I shared the cab with had two large white plastic bags
that most-likely contained all of his belongings.
I couldn't imagine where this cab would be taking him.
He hopped into the back seat, pushing his plastic bags towards me, forcing me
against the door of the cab, leaving me no breathing room.
He then pulled out a Big Mac, still in it's wrapping, removed the wrapping,
and began eating it.
It smelled horrible, as most Big Macs do.
He smelled horrible, as most homeless people do.
I openly confronted him.
"You know, I let you share my cab (like I had any say in the matter), the
least you can do is not eat in front of me."
He mumbled something, and put the Big Mac back in it's wrapper.
We arrive at my hotel, and for some reason, I give the cab drive a somewhat
generous tip and the full fare.
I enter the hotel lobby.
Shortly thereafter, my fellow passenger informs me that the driver has demanded
the same fare for him to pay.
The driver was engaging in double-clocking.
And if he, my fellow passenger, was to continue on to his destination,
if he indeed had one, the meter would still be running.
And he was blaming me for all this.
And if he had a gun on him, which at that point was not an unreasonable
expectation, and pulled it on me, I would have gladly taken the blame and paid
him whatever he wanted.
But he didn't, which caused me to say "Be on your way."
He left, and most-likely abandoned the cab driver and parked himself outside
the hotel.

So who was at fault here?
I think the Win Pool goes to the cab driver, who proved not only to be not
a Good Samaritan, but was looking to gouge some poor, if ill-mannered homeless
person.
The Place Pool goes to my fellow passenger for being inconsiderate in general.
Homelessness does not excuse this.
And then there's me, who was of course, absolutely blameless.

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My book,"Show Runner" and it's sequel,"Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
You might want to check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperback, "Mark Rothman's Essays" is still available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.


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