As a very tired floor nurse at Mount Sinai Hospital in Harlem, I often took a cab home after work to my apartment in Inwood. Over the course of two years, a particular livery cab driver began to anticipate my schedule and would often wait for me outside the hospital around the end of my shift. I appreciated this, as it meant I did not have to haggle over the price of my ride with a different driver every night.
One night, I walked outside and I did not see my friend the driver. Instead, another cab pulled up and we quickly agreed on a price. He drove up the Harlem River Drive chatting energetically over his headset in his native language. Suddenly, as we exited onto Dyckman Street, he looked at me in the rearview mirror and said, “Is your name Rachel?”
I looked at him taken aback (and somewhat freaked out) and said: “Yes! How did you know that?”
He said, “My friend on the phone told me that he often drives a lovely nurse named Rachel home to Inwood.”
Somewhat speechless, I laughed and said to the driver, “Turn right on Broadway please.”
“I know!” he replied, “My friend already told me!”