Food is the taxi fuel propelling me down the road. Food, good and delicious food is key to maintained cheerfulness which is a taxi essential. And what day is more synonymous in America to flavorful cooking than Thanksgiving, that day of culinary excess, breaking the belt and initiating early naps upon the appropriately overstuffed sofa. Again the Yellow Taxi sponsored Thanksgiving was delicious, three versions of chicken praising that noble fowl, the traditional turkey no where to be seen or tasted. Thursday's theme appeared to be Mexican leaving me pining for Iranian oriented meals of Thanksgivings past organized by a major BYG owner from Persia. Those dinners were simply outstanding, grilled meats and gravies ladled over potatoes and vegetables. But no complaining, blackened chicken its own November Mardi Gras celebration.
Perhaps even more than the food, it is always a special occasion sharing tables with fellow taxi wolves solitary in our daily prowling, all of us enjoying the rarity of complete and utter comprehension, something normally absent from our usual day. I suppose it is similar to a pack patiently sharing a downed elk. And there were even countless pecan pies, a dessert not found in mountain and forest.
Afterwards, sated and somnolent I could barely drive but a subsequent $95.00 hour awakened the taxi beast, whetting the appetite for more, the taxi canine ravenous and forever focused upon the hunt. Though hoping this is my last taxi Thanksgiving I will attempt to remember the best and file away the worst, savoring slices of pie served
after the burnt offerings, sweet after the sour never concerned with the sometimes darkened hour.