Playing Pretend; or, why cab rides remind me of one night stands

I got my degree in playing pretend, though my parent's might tell you it's a BFA in Drama.

So, it should come as no surprise that every now and then, I enjoy playing pretend/acting out a role in the back of a cab.

Much like a one night stand, in the back of a cab, I have the ability to be whoever I please.  Because, much like a one night stand, 15 minutes later, I'm going to be saying thanks and goodbye.

(Other ways that cab rides remind me of one night stands:

ONE: I often forget to find out the guy's name

TWO: I just sit there while they do all the work

THREE: I know my parent's would be disappointed

But I digress.)

Though it's only happened a handful of times, when a cab driver asks me what I do for a living, I find it to be far too cliche to respond with the truth:  I'm a struggling actress, with a gazillion dollar degree from NYU, and my dad is paying for this cab ride, like he did my tuition, xoxo, spoiled brat.

Cab drivers are much more interested in carrying on conversations with therapists, film makers, political satirists, or ghost writers for an unspecified NBC comedy.  At least, in my experience.

Occasionally I feel guilty afterwards, realizing that I just lied to a completely innocent man.  He had been kind enough to take an interest in who I am in the first place, the least I could have done was given him the truth.  But then I remember two things.

ONE: I just paid the guy.  I usually feign interest in anyone who's giving me money.

TWO: I'm just acting out a fantasy.  How often in life do we get the opportunity to do that?

(I'm not talking about our Fifty Shades of Grey fantasies-- though that would work well with the one night stand metaphor previously mentioned.)

I enjoy fantasizing about being a different person and living a different life.  It has nothing to do with being dissatisfied with my own life-- I'm rather content with where I am.  I get a rush out of walking in someone else's shoes (or riding in someone else's cab) for a few minutes.  Just like when I played dress up as a little girl, plopping around in my mother's heels, it gives me the opportunity to see the world from another angle, if only for a few blocks.  It's probably part of what attracted me to acting in the the first place, and certainly what's got me sticking around.  

Perhaps it's a bit strange, but it seems rather harmless to me.  After all, the odds of running in to the same cab driver twice are pretty slim in this city.  

And that, my friends, is where a cab ride ceases to remind me of a one night stand.