There are three things I will remember about the Waldorf Astoria, rebuilt in 1931 in classic Art Deco style. It is quiet, which is rare in Manhattan. The food is expensive - eat at a nearby cafe, there are plenty to choose from. Oh, and be careful the porter at the garage entrance doesn't put you in the wrong taxi when you leave. As the trunk of the cab was closing on our suitcases, the cabby argued that he didn't know how to get to Pier 12 in Brooklyn. So then the porter argued back, "If ya comes in here, ya gotta take the work." So Roy and I attempted to remove ourselves and our belongings from the vehicle, but the porter insisted we get in the taxi.
Sigh. I am so very glad my husband is good at keeping his temper. We got the cabby to pull in front of the hotel and remove our luggage. He seemed heartily relieved he didn't have to drive to Brooklyn. Of course, now that we were at the front door of the Waldorf, a porter asked us if we were checking in, whereupon we told him what had just happened round back.
At this juncture a large, dark-skinned man in his mid-thirties, wearing a black suit and tie walked over from his shiny black sedan and asked, "You need to get to Brooklyn Pier? You going on the Queen Mary? $60." Done. As he hauled our bags into the trunk of his taxi (yes, I checked for the 'Approved Transport' sticker), I resisted the urge to hug our saviour. On the way to Pier 12 he pointed out the newly created park on the Brooklyn side of the bridge where he would be watching the fireworks with his son later that evening. "For free. Last year it cost nearly $500 bucks to watch them from Manhattan." Roy and I nodded in approving agreement to these changes to his home town. We arrived safe and sound at Pier 12 and added a generous tip to his fee.
Roy is editing photos on his notebook behind me on the love seat as I type this at the desk in our cabin. I'm sure that he will provide his usual scintillating commentary to complement them.
Connie
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