We went to the Bead Fiesta show in New York City as vendors this weekend. It’s quite an interesting place for a couple of country girls. We stayed on Long Island with friends and took the train into the city each morning, then grabbed a taxi to the show from the train station.
As it happened on Sunday morning, our taxi was pulled over by a very brusque, looming policeman. We had no idea why we were being stopped. We just knew that we needed to be at our table before the show opened. Having been married to a policeman for several years, I know that the fact is policemen are real people who have real lives; they have their work faces and they have their personal faces. I’m not intimidated, and I can always make them smile in spite of themselves.
There we were in the back of a taxicab in the midst of the city, and we had to be elsewhere. Despite protocol, I cracked my window open slightly and said, “Is this going to take long, because we really need to be somewhere on time.”
The poor policeman was a bit taken aback, responding to me with, “Don’t open that, what if you had just robbed a bank?”
“But I didn’t just rob a bank, and we have to be on time. Can we get out?” I could see the poor man grinning on the inside, but just a slight smirk was visible on the outside. He very generously hailed us another cab and off we went for another day of bead sales.
I wonder what happened to the taxi driver!
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