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New York Takes Us for a Ride

 

It is Wednesday morning in New York City.  Some nut head (My son Jake) has set our alarm to wake us at 6:40. a.m. After a thorough lashing, (by his mother) we all get up and begin to stumble through our room. (Except Izzy, who refuses to lift her head at such an unruly time of the morning.)

“How could you?????” moans Izzy. “What have I ever done to deserve this?” As if he has cut off your finger or something….

“We all agreed last night that if we wanted to visit the Statue Of Liberty that we would have to get up early to avoid the 3 hour lines!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

So we get up.

Ten minutes later, we reconvene and decide that the Statue Of Liberty is overrated and we need our rest so we get back in bed.

10 minutes later, we decide that we were being unpatriotic and get back outta bed.

We want to get the full New York experience and ride the subway. I’m a lil nervous about the subway but I want my kids to have the whole New York experience so I brace up…

And follow my 16 year child throughout the streets and down into a hole. Cringing at the lack of windows, (because of da claustrophobia) my only peace is to see rays of light coming up from the streets.

I didn’t faint.  Thank goodness.

Izzy and I are totally ready to bag this subway experience but Jake is determined to get to the Statue Of Liberty so he walks as fast as his pencil thin legs will take him. (leaving me and Izzy behind and not enough time to dash outta there.)

It took us an hour but we got there…..just in time to stand in a 3 hour line. Errrr ummmm. That’s total:

We squash the Statue Of Liberty idea and hop a tour bus to try to get to Central Park.  I’m trying to be a good and accommodating mom….one child wants to go the museum, the other wants to ride the lil bike guy who pulls you behind him, so we compromise.

We flag down a bike boy.

“How much to the museum?”

His accent is so thick, I can’t understand a word he says. “Blah blah blah, hocka hocka hocka!”

“Huh?”

“Something, something something …10 dollars.”

“ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR….ok?”

“Something something something Hocka Hocka, 65 dollars.”

“Oh, no!! We want the 10 dollar ride through Central Park!!!”

“Blah something blah something blah.”

“Ummmm ok. I think.”

Fifteen minutes later, we are at the museum. A museum.  Not the museum we exactly wanted to be at. (like Jake really wants to see the art museum.) He’s wanting to see the museum of natural history.  Errr duh!!!!

We don’t say anything as not to confuse our lil driver. We thank him and I ask “how much?”

“165.”

“Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!! You’re so funny!!!! Seriously! How much?”

“165.00″

Seriously? You want 165.00 for a 15 minute ride?”

He was serious.

“I’m not paying you 165.00 that’s ridiculous!”

And so we get into it. I threaten the police and even go off to find one and of course I can’t.  I have Jake take a picture of his licence because my ‘husband’ (who incidentally is a very powerful attorney), is going to be “very very angry that he has tried to take advantage of an innocent mother and her two children.”

 

He doesn’t seem to care that my husband is rich and mean.

After two failed attempts of finding a policeman, many bundling words, I tell him that I will give him $60.00 bucks. He just looks at me.  I toss him $55.00 (just for spite) and walk off into the crowd, up the stairs to the museum, around the corner, back down the steps where we hop into a cab and six dollars later we are skipping gleefully through the museum of natural history.

Good grief.

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