What do you do when you have only a few days left to live? Do you think about all the medical bills? How sad your loved ones will be? What death will be like? For me, I think of sunsets. The way the sky goes from a crisp baby blue to orange in the blink of an eye is something unexplainable. The orange fades to a darker orange and sometimes, if you're lucky, a tad bit of pink will come out on the tips of the clouds. It's in that moment, when the sun touches the horizon, that you realize just how quickly the sun is fading and why you never notice its fast pace when it is high in the sky. Then, just as quickly as it started, the world turns black. Stars liter the sky and soon enough your side of the world is asleep. Except for you because of the pain.
But who has the time to think about pain when there's cities out there. Cities full of people going in every which direction, trying to get to a destination that has no relevance to their passerbyers. Have you ever stopped on the sidewalk and watched the cars go by? I do. I like to laugh when they honk at the traffic, knowing that honking isn't going to change anything. It's crazy how well people can maneuver in and out of lanes. Like butter sliding around a skillet. New York City has always been my dream. Unfortunately, I never had a well-paying job to support me enough to live out here. That is why I chose to stay here for my remaining moments.
It's midday as I stand on the sidewalk. Staring at the oncoming traffic, I spot a yellow cab making its way in my direction. Without really thinking, I raise my arm high in the air and flag him over. The butter glides to my side of the pan and I jump into the front seat.
"Where to, miss?" The man has a thick accent.
"What's your favorite thing about New York?" I ask him suddenly, ignoring his question.
He turns to look at me with his forehead wrinkled in confusion. He's probably middle aged, definitely a hipster with his handlebar mustache and glasses. "What the hell kinda question is that?"
"It's a question that I, a paying customer, am asking you." I reply with a witty grin.
The man, who I catch his name tag saying Jimmy, pulls back into the flow of traffic and starts playing with his mustache. "Well, I've been here too long to have much of a favorite thing anymore," he pauses for a second, "but I will tell you that there's this place called Rio's Cafe and they have the best slice of pizza in all of New York. You can get a slice of whatever kinda pizza and a bottle of beer for $5. I'll tell ya right now, no place around these parts is gonna be selling anything that cheap."
Even though I'm not particularly hungry and my doctor told me to stay away from alcohol because it could cause an acceleration to my condition, I don't care. "Take me to Rio's cafe please." Jimmy, the cabbie, chuckles and says "alright" before quickly pulling into the far left lane which earned several honks from other cars and a laugh from me.
"So what's your story? Normally I don't talk to my passengers but there's somethin' about you that just seems interesting." He asks once we're further down the road. I think about it for a second before answering. This man knows nothing about me, therefore I could tell him anything I wanted. I could be an accountant living in the Upper East Side. Or I could be a fashion designer, here to make my dreams come true. Maybe a business woman selling property across the city. Despite the endless possibilities, I decide that it's pointless to make something up.
Looking out the window at the buildings going by, I tell him, "I'm from the west coast but I came here because I only have a few days to live and New York is where I'd like to spend my remaining moments." Suddenly the cabbie goes silent. He wasn't talking to begin with but you know that silence that just feels different than a normal silence? That's what I mean. I look over at him and he glances my way momentarily before looking back to the road.
"I'm really looking forward to trying this Rio's Cafe place." I change the topic and the rest of the ride is silent. I'm not bothered by this behavior because being this far along, I'm used to it.
