My cab has wings

Late last night after a random and fun night with BFFs J and Z, I decided to splurge and take the rare cab home. After I paid the cabbie, an older Indian man, I got out and shut the door behind me; and as I was walking toward my apartment, I noticed he wasn't driving away. The car wasn't even rolling, which is weird because usually you're barely out the door when the cab speeds away. I thought it was a bit odd, but I figured he was just sorting through his mail or something else pressing that was preventing him from driving. As I scaled the first few steps of my stoop, I turned my head slightly and he was still sitting there. I waved at him, wondering if I had left something in the cab and he was trying to get my attention. He rolled his window down, laughed and said, "No, it's OK! I'm just watching you. I'm guarding you."

A huge smile spread across my face as I realized that I didn't think that was weird at all. I waved again, laughed and thanked him. As I turned the key in my beautiful front door and heard it creak open, just like every other night, I thought, New York is like this. Doors close, others open. And sometimes, unexpectedly, you have someone to guard you as you go through. Even if it's just to make sure you get home safely.