I said this one before:  it’s always good to see that an old friend is still alive, and still a friend.

I got to see an old friend the other night. I had not seen him for some eight months, and as he put it, we used to see each other most every day. I had a great time, but this post is not about that.

It came to my attention, that if you decide to take a cab home, that ride can influence how you remember that entire evening.
The night I met my friend, I decided to take a taxi home. I’m seldom picky about which car to get in, meaning I play by taxi rules and get in the first car of the lot.

This taxi driver was great. He must have picked up my heavy breathing and decided to not make smalltalk. He just drove fast, and smoothly.

It was also a nice, clean car. This means I’m not distracted or annoyed by any odors or any crumbs poking my ass — so I can focus on whatever I choose to. I usually choose the scenery for that. Even though I’ve seen my town inside-out a million times, I still love it, especially at night.

At the end of the ride, if your night out was good, and the cabbie was ok, you’ll inadvertently have a smile on your face. If you notice your own smile, it will only make you happier. And if the you make some smalltalk with the driver right when you pay him, it will probably make you feel even better.

Even though it’s not a feeling of bliss or supreme happiness, and it cannot radically change your perception of said night, the feeling I get when I exit the taxi is one that stays with me for a long time. I choose to.

In the end, it’s these little things…