-THE GIRL IN THE YELLOW TAXI?-
It is one of those classic, cinematic, rain-splattered nights in Manhattan. I feel the first hint of Autumn wafting through the subtle breeze. The cobblestones on Little West 12th Street glisten as I cautiously navigate my way over to Sixth Avenue. No sooner do I raise my hand than I hear tires come to a screeching halt within a hair of my side. Gathering up my bags from the day’s shopping and gallery tours, I open the creaky door and give directions to the driver. He has obviously navigated the mean streets of Manhattan for most of his 7-plus decades. Through the glass partition, I shout the address of my next destination over the blare of the local sports radio station. The cabby mutters to himself that the Mets are gonna blow it again this post season while I ease back into the protruding springs and cracked leather seat of what must be the last checkered taxi touring Manhattan. This cab and it’s driver have much in common – both are deeply rooted in the past but driving towards the future.
I am a child of New York deeply rooted in this city that never sleeps. The streets of Manhattan are my heartbeat – I’ve known every nook and cranny from the day I took my first steps. Although the facade of the city is in constant transition, it’s soul remains solidly and reliably entrenched in a foundation, like a gift that keeps on giving. New York’s secrets and treasures are revealed to you alone, if only you give her time and shower her with patience.
The familiar hum of the taxi’s engine feels like a lullaby as we fly our way-WHOOSH! – across the avenues on route uptown. Over the years I have logged many miles in these taxis of New York, they’ve transported me from one adventure to another. By way of museums, theaters, shops, restaurants and street life I have journeyed a thousand years, crossed a dozen oceans, visited with Kings and down the rabbit hole. I have tasted the finest cuisines from Katmandu to Timbuktu, sampled the wines of acclaimed sommeliers and backyard grape growers. I have been entertained by the world-renowned and the kid on the corner. Turn right – I’ve seen scrolls from ancient Egypt or 16th century Shakespearean scripts… turn left and there’s the hole-in-the-wall book stall selling everything from 1950’s Playboys to first editions penned by Edith Wharton. I’ve visited the finest perfumeries on the upper east side while sampling the spices of ancient civilizations on the lower east side – all from the comfort of a battered’ careworn seat of a Yellow Taxi. If this is all a dream, please don’t wake me up!
Join me in a ride of a lifetime and the journey of magical memories.
WHO AM I?? I AM THE GIRL IN THE YELLOW TAXI.
The Adventure has JUST BEGUN!
To contact The Girl In The Yellow Taxi, email firstname.lastname@example.org.