Petty Cabs

The most recent census data pegs New York City's population at roughly 8 million people. You can break up that 8 million in so many ways -- by race, gender, creed (whatever the balls "creed" is, maybe it means people who realize that Creed is the worst music ever and people who don't), age, etc.

To think of it, there are so many demographics groups here: white men, black children, waiters, female bank tellers, gay hedge fund managers, Broadway performers -- the list goes on.

After 3 years of living in this dump, I think I've come up with the worst demographic out of all 8 million New Yorkers: Pedicab Drivers.

Pedicabs are the dumbest thing ever. What works great on the Atlantic City boardwalk or throughout the San Diego Zoo does not translate into New York streets. They're hawking (and/or "hocking" and/or however you spell the word for selling something that sounds like a bird of prey) the dumbest service: let me bike you around a crowded street at a third of the price of a car for thrice the price.

Maybe in or around Times Square, near where I work, it can make sense. If you want the novelty of getting your tourist lardass around 9 square blocks of traffic and don't care how much it costs, then a pedicab is totally werf it.

But if you're not traveling to Bubba Gump Shrimp Co., then it makes no sense. Which is fine. But it's ridiculous when you're trying to hail a real cab and one of these buttholes pulls over on their Huffy and tries to solicit a bike ride. Dude, I'm clearly a pissed off over-stressed corporatemonger trying to get home; nothing about my demeanor says I am a tween or overweight Midwestern mom trying to experience the excitement of Times Square tourism.

Say what you want about car service drivers who try to get people hailing cabs to pay $40 to go down to the Village -- at least it's a car that is nice and comfortable. In a city that caters to people blowing money on decadent excess, that's not a big deal. But pedicabs/bike taxis/asstrons offer no service that is even close to comparable to a vehicle.

Yet, every night I'm coming home from work late, I'm somehow a magnet for a pedicab solicitation. And everytime, the driver is either (a) a Scandinavian teen or (b) Port-au-Prince's finest. This past Thursday was the worst. Dude pulled over and even though I was shaking my head 'no' furiously and saying 'no thanks,' the petty bastard wouldn't let it go.

Butthole: C'mon, I can get you wherever you want to go in 10 minutes.
CinS: No thanks, dude. I'm waiting for a car.
Butthole: C'mon, where are you going? I can take you there faster.

*OK -- the empty promise of getting me somewhere faster than a machine with an engine notwithstanding, this is where you employ the conversation-ender; you realize that you are not dealing with a rational human, and it's time to initiate the stop-gap exit strategy. I learned this one from my father many years ago. Whenever we were at a car dealership, and a salesman wouldn't take the blatant "I'm just looking" non-commital/"back the fuck up buddy"/slow your roll answer, my dad did all you can do in this situation. Make an absurd low-ball offer that makes it clear that you are not going to negotiate anymore. Case in point -- a car dealer at a Mercedes dealership keeps hounding you, so you offer "$7000 cash for the new SLK". Then the dude will back off. Back to Thursday night...

Butthole: C'mon, where are you going? I can take you there faster.
CinS: Okay, fine. If you can get me to Tribeca in less than 10 minutes for under $8, I'm in.
Butthole: Sure, get in.
CinS: Dude I was joking. Do you know how far Tribeca is from here (here = Times Sq.)?
Butthole: Of course. It's only 20 blocks.
CinS: No, it's at least 50. It's 47 blocks down to Houston, because we're on 47th St. And Tribeca is below Canal, and Canal is at least 10 blocks south of Houston. [Note to self: Scandinavian teens and Haitians both suck at using the transitive property in real-life situations.]
Butthole: No, Tribeca is like 24th street and 6th ave. I can get there in 10 min.
CinS: Dude, that's CHELSEA. Tribeca literally stands for Triangle Below Canal. As in south of Canal. How are you not getting this?
Butthole: Below Canal?
CinS: Yes, dude. Below. And if you can get me there in less than 10 minutes for $8, let's go.
Butthole: No, I can't go that fast, but I promise I can make it in 20.
CinS: Ok, how much.
Butthole: $70

Burn in hell, Haitian.