Last night in Chicago, I slept like a baby in a real bed, in a gorgeous hotel, after a nice meal... For the first time in weeks I woke up refreshed and without a hangover. The sun was shining, I did not have any early morning deadlines...I took my time with my room service breakfast, watched a little VH1 for some morning music, and eventually dragged myself out of bed and out of my comfy hotel bathrobe to prepare for the workday.
At 8:30 AM, I made my way downstairs to the taxi queue. Unfortunately there were quite a few people in line, and cabs were arriving very slowly. The doorman was not making any real effort to speed the progress of the line, either. And so, I started chit-chatting with the two people in front of me in line: a lady who described herself as "short but mean" and a rather distinguished looking gentleman in a pinstriped suit.
It turned out that the gentleman was going to the same part of town as I was. He was a man of my father's age, maybe older. He offered to share his cab, and I accepted given the fact that I was concerned about arriving on-time for my 9 AM meeting.
After a few minutes, the next cab arrived. The ride was uneventful. I asked the gentleman where he worked. He mentioned his daughter living in New York. And then, it came time for him to get out of the cab. He attempted to offer me $10 in cash for the $5 ride, and of course I refused, stating that I would simply charge the cab to my client.
He insisted, and then said, "Can I offer you $100s? Is there any denomination that you will accept?"
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