After being stationed in New York as a 24 year old stewardess for Pan American Airways for a couple of months, I met a young lawyer at a party who asked me to go out to dinner some night.

For some reason the time of the date was set late at night, around 9 pm. Figuring he was a busy lawyer, it was all right with me. But I would learn two important lessons on this night. The first one being; don’t go out on a late date with a stranger. The second lesson would come later.

He had a taxi waiting so we rode to an elegant French restaurant where he had reservations. I remember the restaurant being very nice as was the conversation. But when we started on dessert he started hinting about going to his apartment after we finished. It was obvious to me that he was more interested in me as dessert than the small cake he was picking at.

I avoided the question until he pushed for an answer and I finally had to tell him no directly.

He didn’t seem to be too disappointed, perhaps because he was used to losing cases in court. But when the bill came he quickly counted out his cash, put it on the bill tray and stood up. We got our coats and went outside where a taxi happened to be waiting. He opened the door, said ‘Good night’ and before I could get in, he closed the door and the taxi drove off.

I wasn’t sure about the New York dating customs, but in Hawaii and Europe they take the girl back to her apartment or hotel. My apartment was about 10 minutes away by taxi, so I guess he figured I could easily get back on my own. Normally that would be the case. However, I’m sure he assumed that I had the one thing a New York taxi requires; cash. I looked in my purse and there was not one dollar.

I can’t remember now, if in my haste or excitement to prepare for the date I had forgotten to put cash in my purse, or if I had changed from my regular purse, or what. But there I was in New York at midnight with no taxi money, and left on my own by the lawyer from hell. And that was the second thing I learned for a first date in New York, always, carry cash. Later I would amend that to; carry lots of cash. Now what do I do?

I hadn’t noticed how long the taxi ride going to the restaurant had been, but I knew it wasn’t too long. And I didn’t remember the taxi making any turns so I must be on the same street. I was still in the area of my apartment which was in Midtown Manhattan, so the neighborhood wasn’t too bad. Yes, there was a street sign that said I was on my street, maybe just 20 blocks away. Once I was sure of the direction of my apartment, I began my trek home.

If this was a suspense movie, I would have seen drunks, thieves and prostitutes everywhere, with the sounds of beer bottles being dropped, people arguing and police sirens wailing in the distance. But all I remember hearing, was the sound of my high heels clicking on the cement and echoing off the building walls. And as for people? No Taxi Driver movie scene with a street full of crazies, just empty dark streets to cross. Who was that lawyer anyway to put me in a situation like this

Well, obviously, I made it back. The next morning my roomates told me what a fool I was for carrying no cash and what a jerk that lawyer was. Needless to say, he never called again. Maybe I should have found a good lawyer and sued him for reckless endangerment.

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