Dinner

After my meetings tonight I met up with a co-worker in the Union Square/Greenwich Village area at Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill restaurant. When I told my cabbie where I wanted to go, apparently he interpreted this as "drive me there as fast as humanly possible and put our lives at risk any chance you get." My cab driver talked on the phone while driving 70 mph through the streets of Manhattan. At one point, we actually hit a bike messenger. It was probably a lot like driving in the back seat with me.