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This week I had the NICEST cab driver. I think it’s the city’s way of saying, “Don’t leave, Kelcey.  C’mon.  I’ll be nicer to you.  I promise.  You’ll hate it in the burbs.”

I finally went to the doctor after feeling just miserable for weeks.  I had to take along my two girls and it’s always a bit of a production to usher them into a cab, while also trying to hold onto my purse, their stuff and a fold-up stroller. Winter coats, hats and mittens just add to the frenzied experience.

As we pulled up to the doctor’s office, the cab driver hopped out of the driver seat, and opened my passenger door to help me and the kids get out.

Very, very nice of him.

Except I’ve never in my many, many years of living in Manhattan EVER had a cabdriver open my door.

And I happened to be leaning over, trying to stuff all my kids’ snacks and wipes and straw cups back into their bag, which meant that my butt crack was kind of on display.

Well, VERY on display.

Now, I didn’t invent low rise cords so please cut me some slack.

And the way I see it, it was just sort of a little bonus for him, on top of the tip. I mean, if he’s into butt crack.  Which he totally might not be. I didn’t actually broach the subject.

So I finally get my pants in order and haul my kids up to the doctor’s office where the other patients stare at me like I’ve just carted in two baby alligators.  They’re just children, people! Unpredictable, uncontrollable little creatures.  Don’t look so damn nervous.

The doctor mercifully called me in right away.  He wasn’t too thrilled to learn that I was already half way through a Z-pack of antibiotics that he had NOT prescribed.

“Where did you get the Z-pack?” the doctor asked.

“Oh you know, one of the moms at my daughter’s preschool sells them.”


“Oh I’m just kidding.  A doctor prescribed it a while ago and I never used it.  My husband told me to take it. Totally his idea.  Please don’t yell at me.”

“Way to throw your husband under the bus.  In the future, just give me a call, ok?”

“Well, ok.”

And on the return trip, I once again had this super helpful, incredibly nice cab driver.

So maybe the city has a sweeter, gentler side after all.  And the always entertaining Marinka of Motherhood in NYC certainly makes a strong case for staying in Manhattan.

And I think I’m inclined to agree with the brilliant PAPA who recently commented that Manhattan is like a bad boyfriend. Sure, you can leave him.  But chances are you’ll just end up coming back.

So yeah, I’ll probably leave this city.  But guaranteed, at some point, I’ll return.  It’s the kind of cool, gritty town that appreciates a little butt crack.  And I like that.

35 Responses to low rise cords

  • Kim says:

    I don’t know why this post made me think of Sex and the city.. but it did..you know when Carrie gets ready to leave the city for good..

    I don’t remember the butt crack part..but that would have been a brilliant idea to add.. 🙂

  • Portia says:

    The low rise jeans begat the butt crack which begat the abnormally friendly cab drivers…. quid quo pro Kelcey….lol come on out to the ‘burbs sistah!!

  • Tully's Mama says:

    Great post, Kelcey. My hubby and I both had a good laugh on that on. Tully is on her 3rd day of a ZPak (liquid, of course) for an ugly ear infection and it helped in a day!

  • Musings of a Housewife says:

    Oh my word, you do make me laugh. I would pay big bucks for a pair of jeans (or cords) that don’t show my crack (or my thong) when I bend over.

  • Diane says:

    The burb’s aren’t all they are ‘cracked’ up to be! I just got a note from our nazi homeowner association that our snitchy neighbors would appreciate it if we would keep our garage door closed. And the only time it is open, is if our kids are coming in or going out on their bikes. How’s that for neighborly hospitality? If I were you, I’d stay put!

  • Jessi says:

    my butt was not made for low rise whatsoever. I can’t even attempt to wear them b/c they don’t cover my buttcrack while standing up, let alone bending over.
    Hope you get to feeling better, Kelc!

  • kristen says:

    there’s crack in the suburbs too, just don’t expect ANY one to be nice about it.

    i tried to tell a woman once at the park that her undies AND the tag were flying in the wind and she ripped into me, saying that SHE doesn’t care, why do I? feh.

    NYC rules, you know it and I especially know it from my inferior rung on the suburban ladder. the key is to live close enough in your suburban oasis so you can get there frequently.

  • Bitsy says:

    Somewhere along the line butt crack made the leap from “plumber’s butt” to “cool, NYC butt crack”. I can’t recall when this happened, but here we are.

    I hope you feel better soon!

  • Marinka says:

    I love the idea of young kids as an accessory that cuts down waiting time in doctor’s offices!

    I hope that you feel better soon. lol about the “bad boyfriend” comment.

  • Cathy says:

    All you need now is a “tramp stamp” (tattoo on your lower back) to go along with your cords. I just took my two to the pediatrician yesterday–James had strep–and even there it was a major, exhausting production. I hope you feel better soon!

  • Robyn says:

    That cabbie could have only been an angel sent from the heavens as a sign that you should NOT leave the City!

    Because I didn’t think nice cabbies really existed.

  • Sandrine says:

    Hi hi you are funny….I think it’s a sign DON’T LEAVE!!!!! hope you feel better quick
    we’ve been sick forever here it’s driving me crazy. A friend of mine drives a cab and he’s the sweetest man ever so maybe he was your “angel” Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave…

  • Michelle says:

    Nice cab Driver, No wait at the Dr.’s office all sounds Urban legend to me! 🙂 Kelcey, you are a very celver chica why do you feel you need to make stuff up? It’s just not nice. hehe 🙂

  • tracey says:

    🙂 i need to pitch all of my jeans that are bit too low. I get so mad when I sit down on the floor at my daughter’s ballet class to remember that I’m THOSE jeans that creep down on their own accord!!

  • Aunt Marcia (Guess Whose?) says:

    NYC cab driver’s are into butts. On one of my ‘Cab Rides from Hell’ through Manhattan, I decided not to tip the driver. I had told him, ‘I’m not in a rush, stop at the red lights, and don’t weave in and out of traffic’. He couldn’t care less. I was tossed all over the back of the cab (no seats belts then)…and my heart was in my mouth when he finally got me to my destination. As I left the cab and didn’t tip him AND TOLD HIM WHY… he said, ‘I’ll never forget you, or your big ass’. Maybe that’s why I can’t hail a cab in Manhattan anymore….the word is out.

  • Terra says:

    I am so over low rise pants – I constantly have to tug them up to avoid the unavoidable…I have gotten into such a pull up rythem that I am getting little holes in my shirts (I tend to tug near the zipper – I know I am an idiot) I have never been to “the city” But I am ready to get out of everywhere and go anywhere that I can seek a little calm and a little less drama in the news – Can you say “shack in the woods”

  • calikim says:

    HA HA!!! Those damn pants!!! I like the look when they are in the right place, but you are right…bending is just a BAD thing in those pants.

    And we have ALL taken some medication leftover from an old illness once or twice in our lives. It ain’t such a bad thing.

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kelcey kintner