It felt soooo good to sleep in this morning. There was no alarm clock blaring at 5 a.m. Instead, I actually got up on my own. The apartment was lit by natural sunlight. I walked over to the window in our living room and stared out at a peaceful scene on Broadway. Hardly any cars were out. Very few pedestrians walked about. The city the never sleeps, was taking a power nap.
Even though it was my day off, I still had business to take care of. Today was an opportunity for me to squeeze in a doctor’s appointment. With my Monday-Friday schedule, it can take months before I can actually leave work with enough time to run any meaningful errands. Most days, I am in the building before the sun rises and won’t leave until after the sun has set.
Because the doctor’s office was in no man’s land, between 11th and 12th Avenue in Midtown, I decided to take a cab. Flagging a cab today was effortless. Cabbies were essentially fighting for passengers. When I jumped in the car, my driver had this look of relief, as if I had saved him from drowning or took a bullet for him. He asked me in his West African accent “Is today a holiday?” I replied proudly, not because I am Jewish, but because even on my day off, I had an opportunity to teach someone. “Yes, it is Yom Kippur, the day of atonement for Jews.” I sat their proudly, with a huge grin on my face, like Akeem in Coming to America. The driver bitterly replied, “Didn’t they just have two days off last week? I am Muslim, we only get two days off all year, this is…
I quickly interjected before he could complete his thought, “The corner of 54th Street and 11th Avenue please!”
I guess one man’s day off, is another man’s off day. I gave him a 20% tip.