Sunday, August 26, 2012

Catching a cab in Chicago

It was a time thing. If the boys and I caught the 10:30 night train back home from Chicago, we could get home before midnight. Or soon after. Miss that train and we were stuck in Union Station until 12:30 a.m. And that's late.

So we were at Soldier Field watching my Redskins take on the Bears. And the Chicago team was hammering my Skins. But my watch said 9:40 or so, and it was time to leave the park. By the second half, most of the so-called stars had hit the bars and we were left watching second string folks who were destined to find real jobs.

So we departed for the street. And went looking for a cab. No such luck. All the taxis drove on by. Some woman yelled from a car for us to look for a light on the cab. All lights were out on this night. Hey, it was getting late. Some other stranger said hang by a hotel and a cab will come by.

It was getting really late. I was worried about the boys getting home at 2 a.m. And then out of the blue this non-looking cab stopped. I told him my tale. We needed to get there in about 5 minutes. He was up for the challenge. It wasn't like he was speeding. We got to the station. We ran downstairs. Using non-verbal communication, we headed for the Fox Lake train. It was just ready to leave. We got on board with seconds to spare. And then Brady looked on his phone to see my Redskins had actually taken the lead. Eileen mentioned later that she knows how to hail a cab in Chicago. Well, now you tell us.


  1. Whenever I took a taxi in NYC, I kept my eyes shut. The guys who drive the cabs have a knack of coming within millimeters of other vehicles and not hitting them. I swear NASCAR has nothing on the taxi drivers of the Big Apple.

  2. I do not go into the city. Ever.

  3. Bummer about missing the good part of the game. When we were in Chicago a couple years ago, it was a simple arm raise that brought them over. Maybe having a cute little curly-headed toddler helped, too. No clue, really.