Taxi-Cab Confessions

Yesterday after work, I caught the train down to New York to meet Chris at a New York Rangers hockey game.   This is all part of our Operation De-Rut Program.   When I got to Grand Central, I hailed a cab and told the driver to take me to Madison Square Gardens.   I felt very New York.

On the way to The Garden, the cab driver asked me what I had tickets to see.   I told him a Rangers game and he kind of chuckled.   Keep in mind, I’m wearing my work clothes and I’m 5 months pregnant.

The driver kind of looked back at me and said, “Your boyfriend or husband like hockey?”

And I replied honestly, “Yes, but I really like it, too.   I like the fighting!”

Before I go on, I should explain my feelings about hockey.   Its one of the only sports that I can watch live and not get bored with.   I don’t really follow it, like, at all.   But I really love going to games.   And fighting really is my favorite part!   I think they look funny all puffed up in those pads, hitting eachother with big ‘ol bear gloves.   They remind me of the Stay-Puff Marshmellow Man.

I don’t condone violence, but I don’t really consider hockey violent.   They are covered in padding and helmets.   They look like sumo wrestlers.   And everyone knows you can’t hurt sumo wrestlers.

Clearly, however, my cab driver does not read my blog and does know this about me because once he heard that I liked the fighting, it was like I had said a magic password that allowed me to enter the inner rage of this Pakistani cab driver.   He was so excited and started talking a mile a minute.

“Aw, man, that’s awesome!   Do you like cage fighting?   I do. I love it.   And how about wrestling?   I love wrestling.   But you can tell its fake, so that’s not as great.   But I love it when they hit eachother with chairs!   And how about kickboxing?   Those guys from Thailand are crazy, man!   I saw one guy break a rib and it came through his skin one time.   Have you ever been to a street fighting tournament?”

This continued for about 10 minutes and covered every type of brutal violent contact imaginable.   Including that his cats can put eachother in headlocks and so that was why he bought two of them.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just clutched my purse and kind of nodded and Uh-huh’d every few seconds.   Finally, when we pulled up to Madison Square Garden, I threw cash at him and jumped from the cab with him yelling after me, “Watch for their teeth to come out!   Happens all the time!”

I had to stand there on the sidewalk and collect myself before I went inside to find Chris.   That is the last time I mention fighting to a New York cab driver.