The Day The President Waved to My Daughter At le...

The Day The President Waved to My Daughter

At least once a year we treat our children to a day in the city complete with a Broadway show and dinner out. We try to pack as much into the day as we can and yesterday was no exception. We were equipped with tickets to the Bodies Exhibit at the South Street Seaport and our day was well planned. It started fine with us parking our vehicle across from the theater and flagging down a cab. My husband put myself, my daughter and one son in cab with instructions to take us to the South Street Seaport. I began to get a little concerned as I overheard the cab driver repeat over and over into his headphones the words "south street seaport" along with a rapid flow of unrecognizable non-english words. My son whispered to me that we had just made a u-turn and proceeded in the opposite direction that my husband had informed me we had to go. A few minutes later my cell phone rang and the voice of my other son, the one who went with Dad, was earnestly asking where we were. I found out that they had already arrived leaving much after we had and beckoned the cab driver to tell me how much further. The meter already read the fair my husband said he paid to arrive at our destination and there was no seaport in sight out my window. After a few more tense minutes and an inordinate amount of traffic, the driver advised me that he had gone a different way than my husband had advised and we were now stuck behind a barricade because the president was in town. We had arrived at Battery Park and he told us to "pay the meter and get out and walk." Furious that I had not arrived anywhere near our destination and with my husband yelling in my ear to find another cab, I told the driver I would not get out of the cab without first speaking to a police officer. He flagged one over who told him he could have gone the other way to take me to the seaport, but a second policeman told me the walk really wasn't that bad. With that advise and direction we exited the cab but not without first giving this cab driver a piece of my mind. Along the way, I had read the "Passengers Bill of Rights" which was listed in the back of the cab. I was informed that I was entitled to a driver who knew the geography of the city,spoke in english and took me the most direct route possible. In my mind this driver failed on at least two counts. He took us the most round about way possible and should have known that the President was speaking in this part of town and avoided it at all costs. Instead, he drove us right into the blockade, charged us an exorbitant fee and failed to get us to our destination. I screamed that he should be ashamed of himself as he countered "It's not my fault." I literally threw him his fare without tip, and proceeded as directed through the park up to Pearl Street. I stopped a few knowing individuals on the street to make sure I was heading in the right direction and with my husband in my ear we proceeded up the block. Again we were stopped at the corner of Pearl and a block near Wall Street that I can't recall. We were unable to cross the street because the Presidential Motorcade was due any time now. Our 2:00 appointment loomed ahead as my husband and two other children headed toward us from Pearl street in the opposite direction. The police were annoyed because they were being yelled at by the pedestrians stuck in a holding pattern. Businessmen who ran out for lunch or coffee without coats were trying to keep themselves warm and of course we ended up right next to the loudest, filthiest mouth woman in the city. Trying to shield my child from her ranting we finally were granted a reprieve as the motorcade made its way down the road. Right in front of us was the presidential vehicle and waving to my little purple snowsuit girl was the President himself. Less than five minutes later we were on our way and met up with the rest of my family up the block. We made it to the exhibit by 2:00 and enjoyed a really fantastic day. We found a van cab to get us back to the theater district and with all six of us in the car it cost us half the price I paid to end up in Battery Park. Well, now I have learned that Pearl Street takes us right to Fulton Street. But my daughter now has a story to tell her her friends; which she promptly forgot to do her first day back at school!