Friday, August 5, 2011

New York Fucking City at it's Fucking-est

I wish I'd come up with that quote, but it's from Craig Ferguson's book, "American on Purpose."

I don't know if it's living in New York or working in customer services that's done this to me, but I am now totally willing to yell "Fuck you!" to random strangers that piss me off. Last night, I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond in Manhattan to pick up a bookshelf. It was my second bookshelf that week. The first one I bought was so awesome that I had to go back and get another one, exactly the same, so they could ruminate side by side, groaning and satiated with all of my pretty, pretty books. So sexy.

These bookshelves are wood, so they were too heavy for me to get on the subway. I had to hail a cab. I put the shelf in the boot, buckled myself in, and said, "I'm going to Brooklyn." Cab drivers hate it when you're going to Brooklyn, but the law says that when a taxi picks you up, the driver has to take you wherever you want to go. Which is what I said to the driver when he said he couldn't go to Brooklyn because he was on his way to pick up a fare at the airport.

"I'm in the car, the law says you have to take me to Brooklyn," I said, smug in my New York knowledge of taxi guidelines.

"Oh man, oh man, I can't take you, I have to go pick up this other man, I'm going to lose a hundred dollars if I can't make it, I've worked hard all day, I thought you were just going uptown--"

"I'm going to Brooklyn, you're required by law to take me there, why'd you stop and pick me up if you can't take me where I need to go--"

You have to imagine both of us talking at once. I'm slightly ashamed to admit that I caved first.

"Fuck it! I'm not going to sit here and fucking argue with you! Get my shit out and hail me another cab."

Rachel from the Big Island would have never said "fuck" to a stranger. Big Island Rachel is sorry she didn't say it louder. New York Fucking City, everyone.

He got my shelf out, but didn't get me another cab and I didn't get his license number. I really should have, and I immediately scolded myself when I realized I'd forgotten it, because I wanted to report him. I still do. My heart beats angry every time I think about it. I want to put on my Catwoman costume and go beat the crap out of someone. My desire for retribution is great!

I should just let it go before this city gives me a heart attack

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