Disco Cab

by Patti

I have this annual gig in Chinatown where I sing for a company holiday party. The man that hires me is Asian, and he hires me to sing all of the "American Pop" music, and also hires this beautiful Chinese singer, Li, to perform the traditional music.

The host of the party always insists that I bring along a friend to partake in the festivities, and a couple of years ago I dragged along Cathy to do just that. After the gig was over, Cathy and I stepped out into the frozen December air and briskly walked to my car. We were full and happy and I had a nice chunk of change in my pocket for the job just done. But when we got to my car, it wasn't there. We both just stood there and stared at the empty spot, as if by staring at it the car would magically reappear. But it didn't. Instead, the sign I had not seen before suddenly appeared: "NO PARKING. WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER'S EXPENSE."

It was 478305 degrees below zero outside, and we were screwed. Well, I was screwed; Cathy was screwed by association. Once I realized that staring at the now empty parking spot was never going to bring my car back, I snapped to attention. It was after midnight. We were in Chinatown.  It was fuhREEZING. Teeth chattering, we ran back to the restaurant to do what, I don't know, but it felt like progress, however delusional. On the way in, we ran into Li, who was bundled up and ready to bolt.  She must have seen our "screwed" expressions, because she caught my arm and asked me what was wrong. I explained to her that my car had been towed.

She clucked sympathetically. "What you going to do? No cabs now."

"I don't know." And I didn't. The only thing I could think to do was cry. But that wouldn't get us home, either, so I was out of ideas. The el rumbled in the distance. "I know! We will just take the train home, and then I can go and pick up my car tomorrow."

Li looked at me very seriously and leaned forward, her finger wagging. "Oh, no, no. You too pretty for train."

I'd never been told I was too pretty for anything, much less a train.

Li continued. "You too pretty for train. You get kill on train."

Man, pretty people have it rough, don't they? Li must have seen my desperation and offered, "Okay, I drive you, but not all the way home. I drive you to where I live in downtown, then you take cab to tow place."
Cathy and I looked at each other, relieved. We wouldn't be stranded in Chinatown, after all, AND we were saved from having to take that train that we were too pretty for. We hopped in Li's car and she drove us to her building, and then we hopped in a cab to the tow lot.

The ride to the tow lot took about 392 years, and at first, we were quiet, wrapped sullenly in our bad fortune, but then the cab driver turned on the music and suddenly the cab was transformed from a plain ol' boring taxi to a full-on Disco Cab! We were jamming to the extended dance mix of Lady Gaga and I could swear a disco ball descended from the cab's ceiling. We did some top-notch seat dancing and sang out loud to each other and snapped self-portraits on our phones, and laughed about how we were "too pretty for train", and for a while, I totally forgot that my car had been towed and that we were actually on our way to the Scariest Part of the Universe to pick it up. Instead, we were in our very own private club, glamorous and free and clicking pretend champagne glasses while glitter rained down on our heads.

By the time we got there, we were high on life again and all was good in the world. We paid the driver and then I turned to find myself facing a small shack with a little window covered in prison-like bars. I approached the window and shelled out a large chunk of the money I had just earned to get my car back. As I handed the man holding my car hostage the money, I realized then that even when the ride of life gets bumpy and goes off course, as long as you have good friends, a sense of humor, and some change in your pocket, you can still sing out loud to the music, dance in your seats, and enjoy the ride in your very own Disco Cab. And that? Is what makes it all worth it.