Cab drivers

One thing I really hate about New York, and the Bronx especially, is the gypsy cabs. When you think of New York City and cabs, you automatically imagine the bright yellow ones lined up underneath the glimmer of Times Square, and the sophisticated New Yorkers (think Serena van der Woodsen from Gossip Girl) hailing one of them from the curb with the swift raise of an arm.

But then there are the gypsy cabs, the black Lincoln Town Cars that roam areas outside of Manhattan and try to solicit rides from you wherever you ago. I’ve been skeptical of gypsy cabs since last March. While I waited at the airport cab stand, a man approached me and asked if I was looking for a ride. Thinking he was just another yellow cab driver, I told him yes and that I needed a ride to the Bronx. I made it across the street from the cab stand before I realized that something was horribly wrong. I saw no yellow cab in sight; the man was taking me into the parking lot and leading me to his black Town Car. I ran away as fast as I could.

I later learned that a real yellow cab driver isn’t allowed to offer rides on the street; you have to hail the cab yourself. I had made the classic NYC newbie mistake.

Despite my abhorrence for gypsy cabs, it’s hard to avoid them entirely. They’re seemingly everywhere, especially near my school, which is on a busy commercial street in the Bronx. I’ll be harmlessly trying to cross the street to get to the drugstore a block from campus when one of the cabs will honk and wave to offer me a ride. Then I just get pissed. I’m clearly trying to cross the street – why else would I be standing next to a crosswalk? – and not looking for a ride.

The weird thing is that gypsy cab drivers only honk at me when I’m alone or with other girls. If I’m out with my boyfriend, the gypsy cabs just drive right on by. It bothers me that I can’t go off campus in the Bronx without having someone in a motor vehicle check me out. It’s not even a safety thing; it’s just plain annoying.

This is a problem even with other kinds of drivers too. Today I came back from a run at the Botanical Garden when a yellow bus driver honked at me. He waved and gave me a creepy smile as he drove by, leaving me completely disconcerted. I was a sweaty, post-workout mess minding my own business, and I still had someone trying to offer me a ride. As a cynical college student, I’m pretty immune to men giving me the “hey girl, you looking fine today” face, but regardless, I’m always irritated when I get that look. The bus driver might as well have tried to offer me candy; even that would have been more effective than the rapist smile.

I wouldn’t call myself a feminist, but this soliciting rides from women thing is starting to get old. Sometimes, I just want to enjoy my time in the city without someone honking at me. I know, I know, if I wanted peace and quiet, I shouldn’t have moved to New York. And I guess it’s all part of the character of this crazy place. It wouldn’t be New York for me if there weren’t strange old men trying to lure me into their cab every time I try to cross the street. It makes for a good story, and that’s really what I wanted when I moved here.

This is New York City, and despite the gypsy cabs and the creepy men and the noise, I wouldn’t choose to spend my college years anywhere else.

Image via We Heart It