Today I had a dramatic morning.
After the second bus passed with “NEXT BUS PLEASE” plastered across its display, I walked up to the next stop, only to find the next bus wasn’t for twenty minutes. What to do?
Just as I was considering walking, a mom at the stop asked if I’d like to share a cab with her and her children. I’m not really a cab kind of girl, but I didn’t want to be late for the library. Did I mention I had a shopping bag full of the preparations for my student Librarians for a Day plus Mother’s Day cards & gifts ready for the mail?
You can guess what comes next. After chatting the whole way and almost strangling myself with the seat belt – I was in front with the driver – I left my bag in the cab.
And realized it only after the cab had sped off.
Most New Yorkers think TLC stands for “Taxi and Limousine Commission.” I know better – it stands for the Tender Loving Care the operator gave me as she tracked down my cabby. And more Tender Loving Care from the cabby who took the time to drop off my bag to me.
In their honor, here’s a draft “pome”:
TLC in NYC
Halfway down the block
I realize my bag is not dangling from my arm
Nor slung from my shoulder.
Nothing costly, nothing earth-shattering in it
Except to me. Two days of preparations all ready for next week-
I remember the cabby, careful and observant as he murmured prayers
I remember the fare – my friend would not let me help pay
But I do not remember the medallion number – if I even noticed.
311 connects me to the TLC.
“Taxi and Limousine Commission,” her voice is
Warm and comforting, she sounds a little older than me.
Commiserating with me, she works her magic
Finding two possible cabs –
with the barest of clues.
After her reassurance I read to my students,
Check books in and out,
Fix the displays. Hoping for a call.
Later that morning, my phone rings with good news.
My cabby, my hero!
He has saved me twice today.
Once from the disappearing M7 buses and once from my own carelessness.
I want to shower them both with blessings but
settle for “Thank you! Thank you!”
and noticing the branches laden with spring blossoms as I walk home.