Cab Drivers

I could start a new blog titled "My Encounters with Cab Drivers," but I feel like that blog already exists.

While sitting in a car with a complete stranger you can either choose to sit in awkward silence for the duration of your drive or you can use it as an opportunity to meet someone new.

During the 3 1/2 years I've been living in New York, I've taken more cabs than I can remember. It's a safer travel option in the middle of the night and it's the only travel option when late for work or when carrying a ridiculous amount of groceries.

I gave out latkes once on my way to a Chanukah party when the cab driver complimented me on my "amazing smelling food." (Compliments are the easiest way to getting free food from me.) We then continued to have a whole discussion on the stories and customs of Chanukah and how they were similar to some of the customs and traditions of his own culture.

A few weeks later, on my way to a birthday party, my cab driver started telling me about his wife and children. And how his wife loves to dance. And how he thinks shes cheating on him.

He spent the next 20 minutes telling me about how she's also a cab driver and how her phone has been busy every time he tries to call her during the day. When he confronted her about his suspicions, she denied it and told him she was talking to her friends. He stole her phone from her and every time he answered to the unknown or blocked incoming call, the person on the other line immediately hung up the phone.

He asked me if I was aware of another way to trace the call or to find out who it was without going to the phone company with a warrant. I gave a few suggestions but I realized that I'm just not private detective material.

So I tried the therapist approach:

I asked him what it was about their marriage that made him think she'd cheat on him. Or if maybe he was just being paranoid. Or if there was something else going on that would make him think there was someone else.

Turns out I'm not therapist material either.

But then he handed me two phone numbers which he believe to be connected to the mystery caller. I had failed at being a detective and I had failed at being a therapist so I thought it couldn't hurt to try calling the numbers for some sort of clues.

Both numbers hit an automated message usually used for computer-based phone numbers. I didn't think this type of stuff actually happened in real life to real people. I mean I knew it happened, but I had never been in the middle of it. All I wanted was a drama free ride to a birthday party and I somehow got myself involved in a heartbroken cab driver's family drama.

I felt helpless knowing I couldn't help him. I couldn't give him advice as I had never been a situation even close to the one he was currently in. And I couldn't help him track the person on the other line because I lack the skills of a private investigator. I couldn't help him and it felt terrible.

All I could do was pay my cab fare, wish him well and go on my way.

It's these moments that make me grateful for the city I live in. So many strangers and stories and lives I have yet to encounter. And though I know I can't always help everyone, maybe it helps to just listen.