Waiting

I've already mentioned my all too frequent use of cabs in the city. I know. Geez, Anne, get with the program...GO GREEN already! But it's freezing out, people! And sometimes, well, I'm just running late. Excuses, excuses. But I have to say, it's really nice finding that, at 3:32 in the morning, my cabdriver has waited to be sure I got into my building safe before speeding off into the night.

I know this city is shockingly safer than it has been. And my fare tonight was less than 5 bucks. And, yes, I gave the driver a decent tip. But it's rare that anyone look out for you, walk you home, safeguard that you are where you're supposed to be. Not that that's always a bad thing. Sometimes it's wonderful that no one knows where you live. Sometimes you prefer that certain people didn't know where you live. It's just that in those moments when people you know you'll never see again exhibit such care...in those moments you realize that there is no real difference between any of us.

I flashed a peace sign once I realized he had waited to be sure I got in the door. That was the best I could do. I know it was lame, especially compared to how I felt. Chivalry is not dead. At least not for this man. Thanks, whoever you are. With the smallest kindness, you kindled hope in me.