MY NEW YORK ADVENTURE

The yellow cab pulled up in front of the hotel. Being in the state of New York (although not directly in the famed city part for which this commuting experience is more commonly known for), I instinctively, though not entirely consciously, put on the seat belt. I was somewhat distracted. I had to do a double take, because it was Kevin Federline (or least someone who resembled the few glimpses I've ever seen of this supposed celebrity) behind the wheel. The slightly off-centred, backwards tilted baseball cap and the large gold chain that hung around his neck, along with a face that couldn't have been older than 17 years, should have set off some warning bells that perhaps my original cab driver was a victim of a robbery and this impersonator had his next victim strapped in. But his authenticity was validated as he radioed in his status. Except he wasn't familiar with the road of where my destination was, and relayed this back to the dispatcher. "What the F*&#! Are you trippin'? It's off Western!!" As this exchange was going on, I had whipped out the Google Map that I had printed off ahead of time, showing the step by step direction of how to get from the hotel to my destination. The next thing I knew, Kevin took the map from me and, as he was whipping down the road in what I envision as typical New York cabbie breakneck style, carefully studied it. While doing so, he managed to dodge through traffic and speed through 2 amber lights. At the one red light that he couldn't make (maybe because there was already cross traffic that was blocking his path), he throws the map back at me and reaches into the driver's side door pocket. For an Egg McMuffin. Obviously, he appears not to be able to drive with BOTH hands free. After inhaling the breakfast sandwich, he proceeded to finish off an extra large coffee. I finally arrived at my destination, wishing I hadn't agreed to the hotel's free continental breakfast.

I'm not sure what these things do to your brain, but at some point during an all day training session, you start losing it. Or you start hearing what should be benign things that just make you crack up hysterically. Anyone in energy knows that it's an industry that has way too many acronyms. People can carry entire conversations without using a complete word. I'm trying my best to comprehend the information about an accounting and settlements system that I've just been pummelled with for the past 5 hours when I hear: "Back in my office, I'm having problems downloading the B.O.; can you send me something for my B.O.?" I look around and people are agreeing, apparently experiencing the same challenge. But they all look so serious and that makes me want to crack up even more! "Have you tried customizing your A.D.D.?" I can't contain myself. I have to step out because if I bite my tongue any harder, I would never be able to taste food again.

And I love the accent of the people here. They sound like they could be from Toronto. Then, all of a sudden and without warning, they'll say "awwwwwwl" with the deepest of Brooklyn drawls. It's like a switch that can be turned on and off!