This will inaugurate a new type of blog post titled “Only in New York” that I will share with my readers on occasion. I know that the kinds of incidents I will write about can and do happen elsewhere, but to me New York with its diverse population is a microcosm of the world, so despite the title of this series, I think the events described herein can happen anywhere. Sound like a paradox? Maybe, but life is full of them.
St. Patrick’s Day, 2017
Though I knew from the start that rescheduling an appointment for a day awash in green might not exactly spell luck (after all I’m not Irish) I had to. I decided to use a Via shared taxi service because I knew that given the traffic, a yellow cab ride would break the bank. The driver meandered through the dense traffic with skill, only occasionally glancing backwards toward me and rolling his eyes at the drunken youths sporting green hats and green ties askew this early in the day. It was around noon. The ride, which normally, even in bad midtown Manhattan traffic, should take no more than twenty minutes, took one a half hours. I hated wasting so much time and hoped that on my return trip the parade would have ended and streets a bit more passable. Silly me.