Mom and sis are heading to New York City for a few days. I’ve never been, really don’t have a desire to go unless the Braves play the Yankees in the World Series and someone gives me tickets and a plane. But the women of my family enjoy a trip to the Big Apple from time to time, and that’s good for them. I hope their upcoming visit is as nice as one of Lewis’ trips to the city.
A Funny Thing Happened In New York
A funny thing happened to me in New York during my recent visit. Everybody was nice to me.
I told a friend back home.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “You might occasionally meet somebody who is nice to you when you visit New York, but not everybody.”
Most people who don’t live in New York think of it as the home office for obnoxious behavior.
“Never forget one time when I was in New York,” a guy told me. “Went up to this fellow selling papers and asked if he could give me directions to the St. Regis Hotel.
“He looked at me and said, `Outta here. I don’t know nuttin’ about nuttin.’ “
But perhaps New York is changing. Perhaps the Big Apple, or the people who live and work there, are reaching out to us now, saying they are sorry for treating us so badly before. Even the cabbies are nice
I probably took six cab rides during my visit. Not a single driver refused to speak nor grunted in disgust at the size of his tip.
I even had a driver to indulge in a bit of pleasant conversation. He said, “Cold enough for you?”
I replied, “It’s cold as a witch’s . . . “
Well, my reply was quite cordial and when I told the driver to keep the change after I handed him three ones for a $2.20 fare, he actually said, “Thanks a lot, and have a nice day.”
These are the mean streets of New York?
I went into a restaurant for lunch. I ordered a beer. I expressly told the waiter not to pour my beer into a glass. I prefer my beer out of the bottle or can.
The waiter forgot and poured my beer into a glass anyway.
“I didn’t want the beer in a glass,” I said.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the waiter. “I forgot. Allow me to bring you another beer, and you will not have to pay for the first one. It was my fault.”
You sure you’re not in another city, I asked myself? Didn’t sneer at my clothes
I was looking for a restaurant in which to have dinner. The cabbie couldn’t find the restaurant.
I got out of the cab and asked a pedestrian if he knew where the restaurant was.
He politely told me where the restaurant was located and, recognizing I was a visitor, said, “Have a nice stay in the city.”
This couldn’t be happening.
I went into the restaurant. The coat check lady smiled when I checked my coat. The maitre d’ was very pleasant in showing me tomy table, and didn’t sneer at my clothes.
The waiter served dinner with a smile.
I finished my meal, and I reached into my pocket and pulled out the appropriate cash to pay the check.
As I stood outside the restaurant trying to hail another cab, the waiter tapped me on the shoulder.
“Sir,” he said, ” I think you dropped this out of your pocket when you were paying your check.”
It was a five-dollar bill. I was shocked. I told him to keep the five to go with his tip. He refused.
I thanked the waiter and got into my cab and went back to my hotel room. Somebody had turned my bed down and there was a piece of chocolate candy on the pillow.
For the first time ever, I slept with the lights off in New York.