How my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day actually turned out fantabulous

My blog is generally reserved for media, PR and tech topics, but I’m going to make an exception today, because sometimes humanity is really freaking amazing.


This picture has nothing to do with my post. But I took it one time and I’m supposed to add graphics to blog posts to get more reads. So here you are.


Yup, another one.


Friday was yet another rainy day last week, and it started out fine, but quickly went from ok –> bad –> worse –> freaking awful. I got on the A train as usual, took it to 59th Street and went to transfer to the B, where I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

For 20 minutes. On the DC metro, waiting for 20 minutes during rush hour should not be unexpected. (see @unsuckdcmetro.) But in NYC, that’s not okay. I asked a guy if he knew what was going on. He told me he was waiting for the B at a different location for a long time and decided to take another train. Apparently the D also goes to 34th Street, so, already really late, I jumped on that. When I exited onto Herald Square, it was downright POURING. And, silly me, I don’t own an umbrella or raincoat in this city. I was immediately soaked. It’s a .04 mile walk to the office, and I’m still learning the way, so I was squinting at my phone in the rain trying to figure it out. After a minute of miserableness I decided to get a cab and I walked into it soaking wet. 

The driver and I got to talking, and wonder of wonders, the guy lived in Silver Spring for a few years. Working a job that doesn’t deserve to be mentioned online, but he was really friendly. He told me he thanks God every day he’s not in jail today.


THENNNN we hit the traffic. And my heart rate was slowly increasing because I could have walked the distance faster. But at least I’m dry, right? Or…at least not getting more wet.

Since we’re not moving any more I tell the driver to let me out at the corner, and I kind of darted the next couple blocks to the office. I sit down and…I’m a little wet. My shoes are squelching. I reach for my phone, and…it’s not in my pocket. It’s not in my stuff. It’s not…on me. At all. Which is when I kind of freaked out and had a moment. I know I had it in the taxi, but what if it fell out on my run into the building? What if someone picked it up and immediately powered it off so I couldn’t call it?

I quickly brought up the find my iPhone feature and located it. The good news was that it was moving fast, so it was probably still in the taxi. I called it and called it, but no one answered. Not good. I put a message on the home screen that who ever has it should email or call a certain number.

Finally, finally finally the driver answered the phone. And he was super nice. He told me he would drive it back over when he came back downtown. Thank the Lord.**

But after a couple hours, I got kind of nervous. He hadn’t called me yet as he was supposed to. Would he take off with it? I called again, and he answered, apologizing and telling me he would bring it back immediately and refuse any other passengers who tried to flag him down. I thanked him and thanked him and he told me he was totally happy to do it.

True to his word, Emilio showed up in front of my building and handed me my phone. He told me not to worry about it, and he wouldn’t accept a tip. He said I should just thank the lady who entered the cab after me and heard it ringing. I told him I would recommend him to all my friends, and he said that would be fine, but he wouldn’t take any form of compensation. I’m sure Emilio is not a wealthy guy either.



(Another photo totally irrelevant to the story.)


Thank you to my 2 friends who helped me get it back. You know who you are.

Guys, use Emilio. He ROCKS. Make him your driver forever.




I was pretty relieved after I got my phone back and even though I was still wet, life was all good. Then we had an ice cream party in the office to welcome me, my coworker and the new interns, and we all left work at 3 p.m. Then I went to my friend’s for Shabbat. Life is good again.



FYI I don’t really believe in the Jewish concept of hashgacha pratis, or at least the way people use the term. I’m with the Rambam on this one. So I’m not going to say this was a huge giant case of hashgacha pratis. K?


2 thoughts on “How my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day actually turned out fantabulous

  1. Jean Mann says:

    Hi Abigail,
    I work with your Mom and she forwarded your post. I told her that I loved it! It reminds me of my daughter’s writing and she just happens to work in NYC so I forwarded to her b/c I know she would not only be able to relate, but always appreciates good writing. Good Luck in the Big Apple!

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