Private parts

After sitting at LaGuardia for an hour this afternoon (US Air lot pictured in my mirror above), I finally got back to a very slow city. Business was thin pretty much all night. But I did manage to have one interesting/strange conversation with a man who took my cab for five blocks. It went like this:

Him: "Let me guess -- you're an artist."

Me: "An artist? No. Why do you say that?"

Him: "Well, I'm an artist and you just strike me as one. You have very meditational eyes."

Me: "Meditational eyes? What does that mean?"

Him: "I can only see your eyes in the mirror, I haven't seen the rest of your face yet, but your eyes say that something needs to come out, like off your skin. Like sweat."

Me: (confused, turning on the air conditioner)

Him: "I just feel it from you.... You know, I'm married to a priest."

Me: "A priest?"

(At this point I decide I need to stop repeating everything he says because I'm annoying myself.)

Him: "Yes. We got married in San Francisco."

Me: "That's nice. That'll be $4.20 please.

Him: (counting) "One, two, three, five. Bye!"


Don't ask, because I have no idea.


The only other thing worth mentioning concerns the little girl whose parents took the time to teach her about her "private parts" while in my cab. It came up because she started talking very loudly about her "giny," screaming the word gleefully over and over again and, I assume, either touching or pointing to it.** Her parents gently told her not to talk about such things in public. When she insisted on knowing why, they responded, "Because it's private. That's why they're called your private parts."

I privately cringed and sped to their Upper West Side destination before the conversation could move on to bowel movements or some such other "private" topic.

Oh, and one other thing. I don't think I've mentioned yet that, ever since summer started, people have been jaywalking like crazy. It's out of control and I noticed today that it's finally taking its toll when I saw no fewer than five people hobbling around on crutches. Perhaps some people have learned their lesson? As someone who's been hit by a car and spent an entire summer on crutches, all I have to say is, just wait for the light. It's so much easier than breaking your foot on a car and ruining your summer.



** A little update to prevent any confusion over how this special word is pronounced, because these things are clearly important. The closest phonetic I can come up with is jie-nee, like the word "tiny" but with a J instead of a T.
I hope I never hear this word ever again.