Yesterday I spent the night in New York. I hadn’t been there in so long i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. it was almost like I was on a date with an old boyfriend.
I got in a cab to go to the flower market and I immediately sensed something was wrong with my driver. As soon as I got in the car he asked me to please wait a minute.
“I just have to take care of something,” he said.
Turns out he was checking his bank balance. On speaker. Apparently he had a thousand dollars in his account and I have to say I was happy for him.
“Okay Sweetheart, let’s go,” he said after he hung up.
He pulled out of his spot but he was going so slow I assumed someone was in front of us.
But no.
“I kind of have to get there before the flower market closes,” I said. “It closes very early.”
“We have time,” he said, his wheels rolling at a pace most people would use if they were pulling up to a red light.
“You know,” he said, “I don’t know what it is but ever since I turned 60 people really seem to love me. Like they adore me. I think it’s because I tell more jokes now.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said. “Can you go a tiny bit faster?”
“You should hear the laughs I get. I don’t know what it is with people,” he said.
“I think their expectations lower as we get older,” I said.
“That’s a good one, he said. You want to hear one of my jokes?”
“Sure,” I said. Looking out the window. Nothing was moving.
“Okay here’s one I told just the other day. What I said was, ‘I’m no Bradley Cooper but I’m gonna call him up and ask him if he wants to double date with me and wouldn’t it be funny if I ended up banging my date and he didn’t?’”
“What?” I said.
“That’s a good one right? You like that?”
“I’m not sure I understood the punch line,” I said.
“No, no I’m just saying, I don’t have as much money as him and I’m not a bad looking guy, don’t
get me wrong, but he’s a very, very good looking guy, like one of the best looking guys around, and he has a ton of money, so wouldn’t that be funny?”
“Yes, very,” I said.
“Here’s another joke, I don’t want to say anything bad about women but Kanye West is a good man. That I can tell you. For example he takes care of the baby. And she might be a whore for all we know.”
“Maybe it would be better not to call her a whore,” I suggested.
“But, it’s a good one, right? You like it? I tell that one all the time lately.”
By that point he was weaving in out of cars for no reason. He wasn’t making up for lost time, he was just annoying the other drivers and calling them names.
“You know anything about Bradley Cooper?” he asked me.
“Not really,” I said.
“Well, I do. For example, I know everything about him. He comes from a very good family. He
was raised right and he’s very good looking. People think he’s Jewish but he’s not Jewish.”
“I didn’t think he was Jewish,” I said.
“I’m kidding,” he said turning the wheel all the way to one side and then the other like a kid pretending to drive.
“Got me again,” I said.
“This is what I’m trying to tell you. The reason I get such big tips is because I tell jokes.”
And then we hit the car in front of us. But no one seemed to care. That’s how slow we were going. Anyone in their right mind could tell there wouldn’t be any damage.
“What a fucking loser!” he yelled, looking down at the seat. It occurred to me that he might be blind.
“You know why I’m so handsome?” he asked me.
“I have no idea.”
“It’s because I’m from New York. Get it?”
“Not really.”
“New Yorkers are ugly so I’m handsome here.”
“Ah, I see,” I said, catching up on my emails.
“For example I get a lot of women to sleep with me. I’m not saying I’m Bradley Cooper, but women like me. They always liked me, but I’m telling you since I turned sixty they love me. The other day I took a girl on a date. I’m not saying whether I had sex with her or not. I’m not the kind of guy that would tell but I’m just telling you what happened.”
“Okay,” I said. “I think I’ll get out here and walk the rest of the way if you don’t mind.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
When the tip options came up on the screen, I thought about how hard he worked trying to entertain me and I gave him 30 percent just like he knew I would.
“Goodbye, New York,” I said as I got out of the car.
“Goodbye, Sweetheart.”
