A View From the Cab - A Sidney Green Story

“Look at all those buzzing bees out there,” said the gentleman passenger, “running hither and thither to accomplish life's goals. Capitalists on parade. Take a good whiff. Smell all that money potential. I so love this city of industry.”

“I’ll stick to smelling the practical things in life, mister." said Sidney. "Like, is my milk sour; have I washed my socks lately; did I forget to brush my teeth this morning. That last one’s a toughie. Ever try to smell your own breath?”

“Can’t say as I have,” said the passenger.”

“Me neither. Being a cab driver like I am, I’m always facing away form the customer. The only one who gets to smell my breath is FDR. But he’s a pal and would never let on.”

“How long have you been a cab driver?”

“Right out of high school. School, army, taxi; that’s my life so far. And it suits me just fine. Too much praise has been heaped on the over accomplished, and not enough on the merely adequate.”

“Fine with me,” said the passenger. “As long as merely adequate gets me to my destination on time. And why is your dog staring at me like that? I’m not partial to German Shepards. Not after what we’ve been through with that war. It’s making me nervous.”

“I’m fairly certain we weren’t fighting the dogs, mister. I was in that war and saw a lot of bad Nazis, but not one bad German Shepard. I think they were impartial to the whole business. If there was a bad one, I’m sure it wasn’t by choice. And FDR don’t mean no harm, pal. He’s hoping you might come across with a treat. He’s a champion sniffer and can whiff a pocketed treat at fifty paces. You wouldn’t be holding out would ya?”

“What I’ve got in my pocket is my own concern. But if you must know it’s leftover truffles from my business lunch. Your concern is having me reach my goal.”

“Truffles? I don’t believe FDR has ever had the pleasure. Did you notice his ears perk up at the word truffles. Ha! There they go again. And look at that tail! Wagging like he’s hit the gold mine of doggie treats. Uh-oh.”

“What do you mean uh-oh?” 

“I do believe FDR is in pouncing mode.”

“Pouncing mode! Keep that dirty kraut dog away from me and get me to Grand Central Terminal”

As Sidney Green coasted along Lexington Avenue, FDR bolted over the front seat in search of truffles.

“Ha. Terminal. That always gets me. Sounds fatal. I always leave out the terminal part. Grand Central here we come.”

Photo courtesy of Wiki Commosns: 

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