Playing a Junky
Art not imitating life
It was at least 25 years ago that I was driving my cab back to the garage after hustling the streets of New York for 12 plus hours when a woman waved for my service at 43rd Street and 9th Avenue. Hoping her destination would be en route, I pulled over to ask where she was going.
“Chelsea Piers,” said she and we were on our way. Her destination was midway between where we…