Why is it that in New York, at the exact moment you find yourself needing something you feel like you can’t get it?
Like, say, a cab?
(holding luggage, alone, 35th street, late at night, tired, cold)
You can’t find one. Or they’re all, lights out. And then you can see it in your head like a movie of your life going in fast forward, all those times you, standing on street corners looking at cabs you don’t need and you’ve never once seen so many with lights out. Not once.
And suddenly you hear yourself say, arm outstretched with your best finger-pointing-to-the-sky cab hailing move, out loud to no one in particular: Unbelievable. Is there like a cab shortage in the city all of a sudden? Have we run out of cabs? You’ve got to be kidding me.
And then the guy on the corner with the trendy glasses who heard you, (who you know always gets what he wants at the exact moment he wants it), looks at you with his best oh you poor unlucky girl smile, and shakes his head, and you realize, that you’ve become that New Yorker.
It was only a matter of time, anyway.
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