Before I’d even pulled the car door shut, the driver had already peeled away from the curb. One more thing about car service drivers in New York: they can never simply drive you to your destination like a normal person. Instead, they insist on driving as if I’ve just gotten into the backseat wearing a nylon stocking over my head and carrying a burlap sack with a dollar sign printed on the side while saying the words, “Go, go, go!” (more…)