new york stories

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

everyone's got one. here's mine:

it was a friday afternoon. i had just finished work and had to deliver something to my boss at her home. she was the evil president of the NGO that i worked for. she used the donated dollars from hard-working people who gave thinking they were helping women in third world countries to pay for $6000 plane tickets to uganda so she could cut a ribbon, complain, and then fly home 10 minutes later. she also had a hook nose, and that, in conjunction with her evil character, made her to be a witch. she also made her subordinates crawl under her desk and massage her feet.

she was heinous.

in any case, i had to take a cab to her smelly house this friday at 5pm. getting a cab at this hour is IMPOSSIBLE. i had been standing on the corner for about 30 minutes when i finally saw someone getting out of a cab. i ran to it and as i reached for the door handle, i instead grabbed another woman's hand.

oh shit, i thought.

"this cab is MINE!" she was in my face and inching herself past me into the backseat.

"lady," i said. "i've been waiting for 45 minutes!"

"i got here first!"

"we got here at the same time." i reasoned.

she didn't like reason and continued to yell at me. she was a rampant businesswoman and was used to bitching her way to what she wanted.

in the midst of her tirade, i timed her out.

"stop! WHERE are you going? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

"uh, the upper east side."

"okay, look. i need to get to hell's kitchen. we can share this cab - i'll pay the entire trip to hell's kitchen - you'll get half your ride for free."

"get in," she said.

in the cab, she turned to me and very sweetly asked, "so what do you do?"

i explained that i worked for a not-for-profit organization that educates and fights for women's reproductive rights in developing nations. “i set up a school for girls in senegal,” i beamed.

she grabbed my arm. "oh my gawd! that's so wonderful, so meaningful." she asked about a hundred questions during the cab ride. when i told her about my project to prevent women from dying during childbirth, tears welled in her eyes. she no longer was holding onto my arm, but my hand.

we got to my witchy boss's house and i pulled out my wallet to pay.

"no - NO!" she protested. 'don't pay. i’ve got it. put your money away." she crumpled my money in my hand.

"it's okay - my company is paying."

"no, you don't make any money. you're non-profit. please - it's on me."

i thanked her - not so much for the ride, but for the opportunity to see her tune change so radically. she was now heading crosstown. the detour to the west side was going to cost her a fortune, especially in this traffic.

oddly enough, i thought as I traipsed up to see demonwoman, our company would be much better off with a president like the woman in the cab than the two-faced, two timing witch we had.