Originally Posted By friendofdd Abdul came to New York City, and, as so many immigrants do, he became a taxi driver. But he was determined to be no ordinary taxi driver… at the end of a 15-hour workday, he went home to city street maps and tour guides, and studied and studied. Within a fairly short time he knew every back street; every alley; which one-way streets went one way and which, the other. And soon, because he was so efficient at transporting customers from one end of the island to the other, he was making double, and triple, what the other cabbies were bringing home. Well, New York being what it is, he determined that it would take forever to build an “empire” in the city — what with the costs of insurance, and garaging, and taxes — so he’d relocate to a smaller city, perhaps Pittsburgh, or St. Louis, but apply all the principles he’d learned in New York. So Abdul moved, taking his single cab with him. And assiduously studied his new maps. And, sure enough, within six months he’d saved enough to purchase a second cab and hire a driver — and before this driver was permitted to foray into the city streets he had to pass a test demonstrating his equally-deep knowledge of the city thoroughfares. Time passed, and by five years later, Abdul had a whole fleet of taxis, and fifty or more employees. His empire had grown such that he no longer needed to drive, himself, but he sat in a luxurious office and devised continuing improvements to his service. One afternoon a reporter from the city newspaper came by to interview Abdul — how he came to be there, and how an immigrant had become so successful. Abdul explained that the secret of his success was hard work and absolute attention to detail, but primarily hard work. He was still putting in sixteen-hour days, six or seven days a week. “But,” continued the reporter, “if you’re working so hard, when do you get a chance to enjoy the fruits of your labors? What’s in it for you? What kind of life do you live?” And Abdul got up from his mahogany desk, and walked over to the window, drew aside the velvet drape for a glorious unobstructed panorama of the city. He motioned the reporter over alongside him and swept his arm across the vista of the taxi parking lot behind the building. “There, my friend, is your answer... Life is a cab array.”
Originally Posted By Goofyernmost Wow, that was a lot of work for so little return. Cute though and completely surprising. Yet another foddism.
Originally Posted By Labuda OMG, I love this, fodd! heheheheh I may share with some friends of mine who I originally met back in 2004 when I was being introduced to the world of musical theatre by working on a production of Cabaret! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
