that's a cute story. Here's a quicky. When i was in yeshiva, my second year, there was a boy there from New York. he was always very tight on money, and what he had, he took good care of. (even his laundry pile, which seemed to always get bigger, but thats a different story). One time he took a cab, and when he got to yeshiva he realized he forgot his walkman in the cab. I remember hearing him yell at the cab company, pleading for some help to find it. I felt so bad for him, knowing he didn't have much to begin with. Well, about two months later, at around seven at night, when most guys were eating dinner there was a knock at the front door (its a small yeshiva). At the door was standing a short, dark man, with long wavy hair, a straggly beard, and a look that said: "you wouldn't want to meet me in a dark alley." He asked for this boy, my friend. Someone went to go get him, and we were worried he was in serious trouble. My friend came to the door, and the "scary looking man" was a cab driver and he was returning a walkman left in his car some time ago. He apologized profusely for taking so long, and he said he hadn't had a chance to come back and return it. Ever since then, i had a newfound respect for cab drivers.
that's a cute story. Here's a quicky.
ReplyDeleteWhen i was in yeshiva, my second year, there was a boy there from New York. he was always very tight on money, and what he had, he took good care of. (even his laundry pile, which seemed to always get bigger, but thats a different story). One time he took a cab, and when he got to yeshiva he realized he forgot his walkman in the cab. I remember hearing him yell at the cab company, pleading for some help to find it. I felt so bad for him, knowing he didn't have much to begin with. Well, about two months later, at around seven at night, when most guys were eating dinner there was a knock at the front door (its a small yeshiva). At the door was standing a short, dark man, with long wavy hair, a straggly beard, and a look that said: "you wouldn't want to meet me in a dark alley." He asked for this boy, my friend. Someone went to go get him, and we were worried he was in serious trouble. My friend came to the door, and the "scary looking man" was a cab driver and he was returning a walkman left in his car some time ago. He apologized profusely for taking so long, and he said he hadn't had a chance to come back and return it.
Ever since then, i had a newfound respect for cab drivers.
that's a great story
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