I was hanging out in Jersey with Dan, who usually drives me all the way home, but tonight I offered to take the PATH back. Once I got to 23rd St, though, I didn't want to wait for a bus that was not in sight, so I took a cab the short ride home.
Immediately upon my entering the backseat, the driver started to call me Miss America and Miss Universe and acted like he knew me. I can't say I recognized him, though being called Miss America - and his protesting of not knowing what the f- is wrong with guys in this city - did seem familiar. When he said he was going to miss his job and I asked him where he was going, he said, "Take a good look at my face. Do you not recognize me? I am famous!"
He then pulled out all these laminated newspaper clippings and started namedropping every TV network and radio station he's been on. He is the Matchmaker Cabbie.
I don't know how he wasn't more on my radar. I mean, the whole thing sort of sounded familiar, but I had no idea the amount of attention that this guy has gotten for the marriages he's instigated and the long-term relationships that he's assembled.
Apparently he's leaving his post behind the wheel to star in a reality show, brokered for him by William Morris. But that didn't stop him from taking my email address down and promising to send me a match by Sunday.
Normally I wouldn't be so free with my contact info, but this guy seemed legit and a real character. Sometimes you've got to take those moments in life and say "what the hell."
So let's see what he sends me. He promised me something good.