Edward Takes a Taxi

      Yesterday, in the cab ride over to Madison Square Garden to see the Rangers play Tampa Bay, I got to thinking about Edward's pecadillos about taking cabs.
      For example, he had the cab driver stop about a block away from the Garden instead of driving up to it.  When I asked him why we can never get out exactly where we want to be, Edward said, "what, you can't walk a block?"
      Now, normally, I would be a patsy to this type of abuse and let my question go, but this time I persisted.
      Finally, Edward admitted that he wanted to save 50 cents.
      So this is why I am forced to walk through ice and mud and God's knows what. To save a half a buck?
      When it's time to leave, it is also not permissable to get a cab from the street that you happen to be on.  And Edward is really a stickler on this one.  When we got out of the Garden, he said let's walk over to 6th Avenue to hail a cab.  Ok, that strategy makes sense, since every idiot in a Ranger shirt was trying to get a cab on 7th, but then, as usual, when we got to 6th, he said,  "Ok, let's go to 5th, and if that doesn't work, we'll go over to Madison."
      Why bother, when we can just walk home?
      That reminded me of one very, very, very, listen to me, it was a damn cold night when we went out to dinner with Cheeks-A-Flying (CAK) and his lovely wife, the Queen of Jurisprudence, Mommy.  We emerged from the restaurant to a blast of frigid air and an available cab right in front of us.  When Edward announced that we needed to walk at least one block over to get a different cab, because this one was headed in the wrong direction, Mommy, who may be a shark in the courtroom, but is a total sweetheart outside of it, actually showed irritation.  "So, he'll turn around,"  she yelled with such a sneer that we were all taken aback and dutifully marched single file into the cab without further discussion.   Way to go, Mommy.
      It was kid's day at the hockey game yesterday, and some of the kids were finding it a particular challenge to go to the bathroom wearing their Ranger apparel.  I could hear one little girl, whose Ranger shirt landed  close to her ankles, complain to her friend that you had to hold your shirt way up high or else you got wet.   I'll have to remember this the next time I go to a formal event.
      In order to celebrate kid's day, the Garden handed out "posters" which were actually 11" X 14" pieces of glossy paper with a picture of the Ranger players printed on them.  Only those younger than 13 were allowed to get one.  Geez, how generous.  Then, during the third period, the Garden announcer, as well as the Jumbotron, stated that it was time for the t-shirt toss.  Needing more gym attire, I happily waited for the t-shirts to fly, and the possibility that I might nab one.  What actually happened? -- nothing.   Nary a t-shirt was tossed, not even a used one.
       The Rangers lost, but mostly I wondered if Tampa Bay Lightening fans get better treatment at their arena than we get at the Garden, especially given the price of the tickets.