Sidewalkers Lament; or, Why I Like Taking Cabs On Pretty Days

The weather in New York City is beautiful today. The sun is bright, humidity low, and, at a nice 70 degrees, my butt crack isn't sweating.  It is the perfect day for a cab ride.

It's not that I don't want to be outside on a day like today.  Completely the opposite, actually.  In fact, I'm sitting outside on my fire escape at this very moment.  It is the thought of trying to get from Point A to Point B by foot on a beautiful day that turns me off, and I think my reasoning for feeling that way is rather solid.

So, allow me to list a few of my reasons.

REASON NUMBER ONE: I sunburn like an Irish kid.  Honestly, I spend 15 minutes outside on a sunny day, and I'm looking at at least 15 days of pink skin.  This is why I wear bee keeper-esque outfits on the beach, and keep detailed charts and diagrams of all my moles and freckles.  From the backseat of a cab, I'm able to enjoy the bright sun from a shady place.  And if I'm listening to Eminem while riding in the backseat of a cab, I can enjoy the bright sun from a slim shady place.*

*That was so bad.

REASON NUMBER TWO: The sidewalks seem to be littered with temptations of all kinds on pretty days.  Food trucks and street fairs always seduce me with their overpriced grilled cheeses and Asian-inspired tacos.  The open windows and rooftop seating of bars and restaurants ensnare me in a way that I simply can not resist.  And I swear that Greenpeace has a bunker full of cute and persuasive boys that they release only when the weather is nice.  Ultimately, walking is just as draining on my wallet as a cab ride, and takes me twice as long.  So, really, I'm just being economical.   

REASON NUMBER THREE:  The city comes to life on days like today.  People look up on beautiful days.  They're less afraid to smile at or make eye contact with a stranger.  The footsteps of the city slow down-- even the hurried business man takes a minute or two to enjoy his favorite tree lined block.  The best people-watching-seat in the house is in the back of a cab.  I get to be a true observer back there.  A red light provides just enough time to see two people kiss, decipher whether it's a joyful hello or a sad goodbye, empathize with the human condition, and be gone before anyone even notices.  I get to be in on the private moment without invading the sacredness of it.  It's exactly my kind of theatre-- short, realistic, and well lit.

The list goes on, but with all the pretty summer days that lie ahead of me, I'd rather not waste all of my reasons in one post.  Better to save them for a rainy day.*

*That was pretty bad, too.