Even in an age of Uber and Lyft, the good old New York City yellow cab has its benefits. Primarily, flailing your arm assures that your ride will be charged at a standard fare, not Uber’s now-and-again 400 percent surcharge. For that regular fare—$2.50 initial plus $.50 per ⅕ mile, $.50 per minute—you might even snag a luxurious Ford Crown Victoria, whose cushy ride and famously cavernous back seat are shared with the Lincoln Town Car. For Town Car privileges with Uber or Lyft, it’s a premium service. Also, NYC taxis are yellow; not demure, anonymous black, but an exuberant shade of sunflower. That’s worth something.
Having spent any time near Grand Central, your images of taxi egress may be bleak: tourists dragging overfilled duffels, parents dragging wailing kids, a poorly-shod lady slipping into the slush. How about this to polish that mental image?
This is a still from Vogue, circa 1945. A woman in a tailored dress alights from the rear seat of a minty sedan, mink stole clutched to her hip, mink hat aimed towards her destination, one towards which she will obviously glide, not shuffle. Remember, no matter the surrounds, cool is all about the carriage. Keep the shoulders back, folks. You’re in a New York City taxi, and that’s reason to be damn proud.