I had a flight from Stewart Airport; about 45 miles of New York City, to take me back to Cincinnati. Unfortunately that flight was cancelled and there were no others until the next day. Because of obligations I needed to get back home, so I re-booked another flight out of New York City’s LaGuardia Airport. Which meant I had four hours to get from Hopewell Junction New York to make the La Guardia flight. To tell the truth that is cutting it close.

I missed the first train to New York and got on the second commuter train headed to Grand Central Station scheduled to arrive about 1.5 hours before the flight. On the train I did some light reading but could not concentrate. In the seat in front of me I heard a couple who did not use their indoor voice on the train tell each other how hard high school was and that they were taking a year off to travel Europe and recover from their trials and tribulations of the previous 4 years. Thoughts of poor little rich boy and girl kept gnawing at me and while the conversation was benign in principle the repetitious use of the words, “like” and “ya’know” was exceedingly annoying.

I endured the train trip focusing on my work and wishful thinking about making the flight. The train arrived on time and, pulling my carryon bags, I hopped the nearest taxi. Having lived and worked in New York years ago, I knew making the airport in time would be tricky though doable at the height of rush-hour. I explained my situation to the taxi driver and we were off. The taxi driver made an illegal right turn before leaving the vicinity of the Train Terminal and was immediately stopped to be given a ticket. I politely and urgently tried to pay the driver so I could get another taxi because waiting for the cop to write the ticket would be too time consuming. He strongly insisted that I would have no problem making it to the airport in time. I reminded him that there is ticketing and security to get through and “in time” means I need to get on the plane. He however would not open the trunk to allow me to get my bags. As I’m getting more and more frustrated the cop returns and dismisses the driver with a warning and no ticket.

Without a word the taxi is off like a flash and I am in for a ride of my life. This driver, I guess to prove to me I would get to the airport “on time,” made multiple illegal turns, cut several people off and surpassed the speed limit at every conceivable opportunity. Multiple people beeped at us and made gestures like the one fingered salute as we sped by them. He kept telling me we were making great time and that there was nothing to worry about. The truth is I was not worried about making the flight. Despite having to hang on for dear life, and yes I was wearing a seatbelt, I love New York cabbies and knew we’d make it with time to spare. This episode did remind me that one should always try to avoid being on the receiving end of a cabby in a rush.

We did make it to the airport in time. I paid him cash and gave him a good tip. It was worth it and I made my flight.