| | I Like to Push Buttons.
The New York City Taxi Commission and new taxi rules and regulations have caused lots of fuss among the taxi-driver world but the ultimate outcome has been these WelcomeToTheFuture style services in most cabs.
Now most cabs accept credit card and, while you are cooling your heels in the back seat, an interactive screen updates you on the news, the weather, and even fun map/ GPS stuff to tell you where exactly in Manhattan you are.
And then there are these great buttons.
On the screens, at some point in your journey, you will get asked if you would like to pay by credit card or by cash.
Typically, this screen will not show up until you are at your destination and you are ready to square up and settle the cab tab.
If, however, this screen should pop up because of an accidental brushing of mission control in the front seat by your cab driver, bear caution.
The buttons...let me tell you, are screaming to get pushed. They're about 2" x 3", large, luminous, their shade of azure that's somewhere between that blank TV glow from the movie Poltergeist and the beckoning call of the deep blue Caribbean. Blue, let me tell you.
One says CASH and the other says CREDIT. What's not shown is the quiet, subtle siren song of "Push me now. Don't wait. Who cares if the cab is ready? YOU'RE ready."
Especially if you're like me and become easily entranced by bright glowing lights.
So the cab driver turns to me and says, "Hey, do you plan to pay cash or credit card? I just want to know because I'm going somewhere afterwards and I'll need cash, but if you pay me cash I won't stop for cash and instead will go straight to my--------" and on and on.
I took this as a subtle sign that some higher force was giving me the warm, hand-clasped permission to push the button of my choice.
And I nearly leaped from my reclining position, finger extended like a musketeer charging into the front lines. CASH CASH CASH
Somewhere up front, the receipt machine closed out the meter and started printing my receipt.
At this point, everything stopped. And there we were, on 9th Ave and SomewhereSouthOfTheFinancialDistrict.
"I thought you said Eighth and 26th?" the cab driver inquired.
What?? You think this is somehow my fault? I thought, but not out loud. Oh, I guess it is my fault.
"Haha. Yeah. Well, I was..you know..."
I smiled politely, lest I get ejected from the cab.
I eventually arrived at my destination safely. Eventually, keeping my hands to myself the whole time.
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| | Posted 4/27/2008 6:34 PM - 0 comments
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