There’s a certain kind of older lady in NYC. She’s short, often slightly hunched. Bright red lipstick. Perfect coiffure. Glasses one or two sizes too big for her face. Walks with a cane. And always has by her side a minder — either an adult child, or a helper of some sort.
I love little old ladies like this. They are indomitable.
And endemic on the East Side, especially adjacent to Central Park.
The taxi driver this morning tried to scam me. I got in his cab. “So you want the $45 flat rate to LaGuardia?” I replied that there is now flat rate to LGA, and things escalated from there. His actions were illegal. I left his cab. And I think the hotel bellman was in on the scam: fleece this guy, keep it off the meter, and split the money.
I ended up paying more than $45 for the trip, but I was in the cab legally, as a paying fare, with all rights.
American Airlines to Atlanta. Gate announcement three times: “The door is closing.” For a 6.25 a.m. flight, the door closes at 6.15 a.m.
At 6.16, a guy rushes up, not from the direction of the check-in hallway, but from elsewhere further down the terminal. The door is closed. He throws his cap, then a fit. Police nearby intervene.
One minute later, a businessman of some sort arrives from the security check. He is cordial and immediately booked standby on the next flight.
And at 6.24 a.m., yet another guy rushes up!
I don’t get it. Oversleep? OK. But pushing the clock that much? Foolish. I’ll never know the reason, except that the first guy was in the airport already!
“The bestlaid schemes of mice and men oft go askew, and leave us with nothing but grief and pain for promised joy!”