The Magical Uptown Cab Ride

A stranger's lesson made me a better human. Permanently.

A cold, gloomy, intensely unhappy New York day. The Manhattan streets groaned with traffic, driving everyone to the brink of murder.

New York City - June 2013: City Streets And Traffic In Manhattan - JOVANNIG

At nineteen, I was sure that I had completely figured things out. I knew what life was. It was a bumpy road, strewn with jagged rocks that came alive and hurled themselves at you as you moved forward, intent on derailing your best-laid plans. With a certain glee. I was jaded and so very pleased with myself. Because I was a GROWN-UP. Yes, that’s what I was.

I was headed uptown, and after trying to hail five rides, one grudgingly screeched to a halt beside me, angling a wall of water at my knees. I got in, soaked and whoppingly pissed off. Two other intensely grumpy people were already there, along with a stoic, long-suffering cabbie who had built an impregnable psychic wall between the front and back seats. None of us said anything as we stared out of our windows, wishing we were somewhere, anywhere, else. Rain pelted everything and everyone; the noise from blaring horns drained the life out of the world. It felt like hell had flooded.

Room for one more. The cab stopped a little way up Broadway, this time taking on an elegant older British lady who was somehow spared the water wall. Dressed impeccably yet reserved, her hair unmussed despite the weather, she immediately said a very kind hello, making eye contact with each of us. It was like the sun had just come out. Oddly, none of us said a word. It was as if we’d become mute in the unexpected warmth of her greeting. Was it embarrassment? Or was it that we were too used to the cold, common demeanor of fellow city folk? We could handle terse. Nice, not so much. Yet, I could sense that each of us were secretly undergoing a personal reassessment. Something about her energy had altered the present moment, and it felt… novel.

As it happened, she got off first. She paid the cabbie, warmly bidding him a good day, and proceeded to say the same to each of us. Like small children who’d been shown the error of their ways, squirming a little, we each looked at her shyly. Silently wondering who this magical being was, so far above the petty squabblings of normal humanity, we quietly mumbled our replies.

Five or six blocks later, the first of us alighted from the cab, wishing the cabbie, myself, and the other rider a good day. And not in a sarcastic, fuck-you sort of way. He really meant it. I and the other remaining rider matched his goodbye as he gamely stepped out of the cab. Drenched in the downpour, head held high, the look he gave us signaled he’d just discovered a magical truth. Which he had.

Civility. That ephemeral, essential trait that invites people to engage others with respect and goodwill.

My compatriot departed the cab after ten blocks, and she also genuinely wished me and the cabbie a hearty farewell. When I finally disembarked eight blocks later, I did the same. AND I MEANT IT. The psychic wall between the seats had evaporated - he turned around, looked at me directly (not in the rearview mirror, as is the custom) and cheerfully hoped that I would also have a wonderful rest of my day.

We had all tipped him well, but I don’t think that’s why he seemed so happy. The lady had achieved a miracle - her civility had changed all of us from irritated, self-centered wretches into people who took the time and made the effort to think of someone else. I have never forgotten that small but monumental lesson. Later that year I came across this saying and that day in the cab came flooding back.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world”. - Gandhi

Sometimes tiny, improbable events trigger something very deep in each of us, which can shift our thinking radically. The change brought about by such an event can last a second or a lifetime. I sometimes wonder what happened to each of my cab mates. How their lives unfolded, whether they wove the lesson learned that day into the rest of their lives. I wish them well, wherever they are. And I wonder if that memorable lady knew how much of an impact she had on a cab full of impressionable young humans.

I’ll bet she did.