Las Vegas 24/7 x 10: Are You Lookin' at Me?

And so, in the fullness of time, I have at last assembled a recap of my recent Las Vegas trip. This ten-day expedition was mostly for research work on the annual update of the Unofficial Guide to Las Vegas (I’m a contributing writer). The final weekend was pure madcap fun, though, as the other researchers left and were replaced by a contingent of New York attorneys. However, we have a lot of ground to cover, so I’ll break it up into chunks this week. But to sum up, let me just repeat what I've told everybody on my return: ten days is too long to be in Las Vegas.

The trip began with a potentially worrisome taxi-related omen. I was initially going to try the new subway/monorail combo from Manhattan to JFK airport, but I’d heard about some service interruptions the night before I was due to fly out. Rather than risk getting stuck underground, I decided to eat the $40 cab fare in exchange for getting to the gate on time. The problem was, I couldn’t seem to get a cab. There was seemingly no reason for this. It was about 9:30 a.m., 81st street and Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side. It’s not that there were millions of people taking all the cabs … there just were very few cabs to be had.

I waited a little over 20 minutes on the same corner. I was about ten minutes away from taking my chances with the subway. But here comes a chubby blonde woman sauntering up Columbus on the other side of the street. I’m staring at her. She glances over and sees me, clearly hailing a cab, with a suitcase at my feet. She sticks up her hand, also hailing.

Now here we have a violation of cab-hailing etiquette, though not uncommon really. It’s bad form to try and grab a cab right across from someone already present, just as it is to start hailing a cab just “upstream” (i.e. further up the flow of traffic) from someone already doing so. Kind, gentle folk will at least move some distance away, or let them have the next cab.

Still, cab-poaching happens, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done it myself. I gave this woman the evil eye across the street, but really, in this arrangement, it was up to whoever waved the most. I was taller than her, and I had a big red suitcase. (Though of course, some cabbies will avoid an obvious airport fare.) I figured natural selection would determine how things played out.

Not so. Before my unbelieving eyes, the woman CROSSES THE STREET to stand perhaps ten feet upstream from me. Not 30 seconds later, a free cab miraculously appears, she hails it, and it stops roughly between us.

Immediately, I’m all over her. “Excuse me … but that’s my cab,” I say. “I’ve been here almost half an hour.” Standard procedure. I’m ready to argue.

But I underestimate this woman, who obviously planned to steal my cab from the beginning. She’s stammering out an unintelligible excuse … “Oh, no, I’ve been here …” but she’s also grabbing the door and getting into the cab while doing so. Effectively, I would now have to bodily remove her from the cab in order to see justice served. I’m screwed.

Now, I am generally a very polite person, having been raised a good Southern boy. But neither do I retire from confrontation, and I have been in New York for almost a year, so perhaps my veneer of civility has been abraded away. As this woman unabashedly steals my cab right out from under me, without the slightest hint of shame, I step to the curb and lean over to her open window. Without hesitation, I shout out, “You BITCH!” in my most venomous tone.

She recoils, and the cabbie turns around in alarm. I step back, glaring, and the cab drives off. The woman turns around and flips me off through the rear window. I give her the double flip-off in return, repeating my “BITCH!” shout.

So now, I’m that guy, on a corner in New York City, screaming “BITCH!” at ten o’clock in the morning, while startled yuppie moms push their babies past in strollers.

It felt good!

That was the first time I’d ever called a woman a bitch to her face in anger, and yet … the universe did not punish me. Another cab appeared about three minutes later. I made it to the airport in plenty of time, and the flight to Las Vegas went off without a hitch. Got to the Treasure Island casino-hotel with no problem and spent the afternoon plotting out my research work.

Next: The Work.

Comments

[Foreign Attorney]

I'm disappointed in (and, paradoxically, in admiration of) you, Christopher. Say three Hail Cabs and don't do it again.

[s.h.]

>That was the first time I’d ever
>called a woman a bitch to her
>face in anger, and yet … the
>universe did not punish me.

...YET.

[John M. Hicks]

Maybe my ignorance is showing, but... Can you not call a cab company and have the cab waiting at your door in the Big Apple? That's what I've done in other cities to get to the airport.

JH

[Chet]

It's my understanding that hired-cars in NYC are actually split into two groups: Taxis, typically but not always yellow, which can be hailed on an ad-hoc basis as Mr M. has described here (and has been seen in countless film and television examples); and livery cabs (which aren't brightly colored), which are called to a known location to ferry a specific person to a given destination. Livery cabs cannot be legally "hailed" on the street. This is a distinction without a difference in most cities, since "hailing" a cab is all but impossible in most non-NYC US locations.

I suspect that the hired-car cabs are more expensive, and would require greater forethought in any case.

[chris m]

Chet be correct. Yellow/medallioned cabs cannot be called or reserved, but only hailed. There are also prowling black town cars that technically are not supposed to poach fares off the street, though they do it all the time (these may more properly be the livery cabs Chet mentions). These town cars are particularly common in high-traffic areas or times when yellow cabs are overwhelmed, or in the outer boroughs where there are few (if any) yellow cabs. There are numerous airport shuttle/limo services, but they are either a pain in the ass (since they're picking up lots of other people on a route) or hideously expensive.

As in most metro areas, carjacking remains your most reliable transportation option.

[s.h.]

Wouldn't "24x10" be more correct than "24/7 x 10"? After, 24 by 7 times 10 is seven weeks.

[chris m]

You take your sensible math, and you go to hell, and you die!