So yesterday we went to see the Kids and Grand Kids in the East Village in Manhattan. I worked in Manhattan for 40 years and would rather have Nancy P
elosi stick me in the eye, twice with a sea urchin, then step on my busted knee with a high heel than go into Manhattan. So I have to stop before I tell you how I really feel about Manhattan.
Anyway we drive to the Jitney, depot and get on the bus. It's about 100 miles to downtown from here and busses are not built for people with new knees. You can't stretch your leg because for some reason they always put a seat in front of you.
An Hour and a half later we get to 44th st and Third Ave. And have to get a Taxi.
It's cold.
We hail a cab and it was a tiny cab with a driver who barely speaks English, but that is a requirement to be a Taxi driver in NY. If you can speak perfect English, they won't give you the job and you would have to run the French Fry cooker at Burger King.
My left knee is new and I can hardly bend it. My wife has MS and can barely bend her right leg. We are trying to get into this cab at the same time and to do this you have to put your butt in and slide all the way over to the other side to get your leg in. While I am trying to do this (carrying a cake, Christmas presents and a pie) My wife is trying to get in on the other side.
I don't know if you know what 44th st and Third Ave in Manhattan looks like but it is not like somewhere in Idaho.
WE have both doors wide open, I slide all the way in and pick up my leg with my hand to get that in. My wife has to slide in and get on my lap so she can get her foot in. (It's OK because we have been married for 45 years) Now we are both in and we have to close the doors with her cane. I have a cane that folds up so you can't pull anything with it or it falls apart. I am holding in my screams because this is very painful as my leg is practically on the drivers shoulder and my wife's leg is almost out the window.
The traffic is horrendous like it always is and it is a 20 minute ride.
WE get to our Daughters house and I have to get out to pay the guy. I slither out onto the street like a snake and my wife got out some how. Now I can't stand because new knees take a while to move. It must be some kind of aluminum problem. I get to straighten up to almost half my height and pay the guy.
Then my wife and I limp into Our Daughters house where there is a long walk to the elev
ator. We looked like those guys from the Civil War where one is carrying the flag, one has a flute, one has a drum and they have bloody bandanas on.