Taxi karma at its finest
Stumbling home from New Year’s eve’s festivities, the situation was pretty desperate, what with all the rain, the icy roads, and drunken Americans in hotel lobbies, all vying (and almost coming to blows) for an elusive cab. We head down to René-Lévesque, hoping that our luck will change. We duck under another hotel awning, wondering how the fuck we’re going to get home and, if we do end up walking, just how sick we’ll be when we get there.
Along come a trio of (you guessed it) Americans, lost and unable to find their auberge. We strike up a conversation, we give them directions to their destination, and start showing them the way. And then, miracle of miracles, a cab pulls up. Score! Fifteen minutes later, we’re home, soaked to the bone, but home nonetheless.
Okay, that might not count as karma, per se, but I’ll take what I can get.
The Tinman's Thoughts 