A small group of us from the office ventured into darkest Cambridge earlier this week for a meeting with our always delightful colleagues at World Music (psst, it was about Cirque Eloize, more on that later). Our post-meeting cab driver turned out to be a 20-year Celebrity Series subscriber, and - smashing every factoid cliche we have come to believe about our subscribers - a father of four from a burg well out Route 2 into the North Country. As we drove, I remembered an old Doonesbury cartoon featuring an erudite bricklayer.
The man seemed absolutely shocked when our marketing VP remembered his name and his subscriber status. David explained later that this man is one of the handful of subscribers so dedicated to acquiring quality seats that they show up at the office first thing in the morning the day after the brochure is mailed. We know these people. We are in awe of these people.
"Are you sure you've never been in my cab before?" We lurched from one stoplight to the next as the cabbie took calls from fares, writing the info on a notepad resting on his knee as he drove, pausing only to stare at the three of us in disbelief. "Where am I taking you again?" he finally asked, the new WCRB buzzing in the background. "Oh, right." He careened to the right and down an alley to what must be a secret entrance to Storrow Drive and whipped out into the oncoming traffic as the notepad slid onto the floor (along with our stomachs).
When we pulled up at the office, he grabbed a handful of tickets wedged behind his visor, and fanned through them, "Here's one of yours. Evgeny Kissin." We all nodded. It was indeed a Kissin ticket with our logo on it.
When we got out of the cab, feeling certain that preferred rider status was ours for the asking (he's in the phonebook, you know), we asked David how he had remembered the man's name. "You don't forget someone like him, do you?"
How many more like him walk the mean streets of Greater Boston?
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