On Mumbling And Money
My first cab driver this morning carefully checked three or four times to double-check my destination. He told me that he's had trouble distinguishing between "fif-ti-eth" street and "fif-ty-eighth" street. He blamed this on having learned British English. "Some passengers get mad," he said, "and don't pay." I told him I thought perhaps the passengers should be paying attention as well. "It's my fault," he said, "but ..."
My second cab driver told me that people would be having a hard time getting a cab today (I had). "Muslim-men don't work today."
"Oh," I said, "it's the end of the holidays today, isn't it?"
"I don't know. I'm from the Dominican Republic." But when he arrived late at the garage this morning it was full of yellow cabs.
"Well you'll be busy today," I told him. He thought about this for a moment and replied:
"I am a man who believes that there is enough in New York City. There is enough for everybody. If you work hard, there is enough. You don't have to be greedy."
"Mmmm," I said. Neither of us spoke for a minute.
"But if I knew, I'd have been early today. Oh, yes."