Considering the current white-out in New York City and the absolute horror of trying to hail a cab in a blizzard, today’s inception of a city-wide ride share program comes as sweet relief. As long as you don’t mind the company of strangers, that is. The Taxi and Limousine Commission has it all planned out: passengers can split rides from three designated checkpoints (West 57th Street at 8th Avenue, West 72nd and Columbus, or East 72nd and Third Avenue) for a steeply discounted fare of $3-4 per person. Though we predict a few kinks in the system — for one, downtowners seem much more apt to get gung-ho about random encounters with strangers and none of the “zones” extend below 42nd Street — we’re pretty into the ideas of carpooling and community spirit. After the jump, we’ve compiled a list of our dream co-pilots, plus the imaginary routes we’d follow with them.
Corner of St. Marks and 3rd Avenue, across to Tompkins Square, around the park with a stop at Odessa.
One of our favorite Riot Grrrls is living a peaceful post Bikini-Kill, post-Le Tigre existence with her Beastie Boy husband in the East Village. We’d obviously talk about blogging.
Skip The Dakota altogether and head to more peaceful environs, encircling the Cloisters far up on the Upper West Side.
We imagine this conversation to be a real-life interpretation of Ono’s Twitter stream: random thoughts and vague directions punctuated by knowing giggles. We could also try out our primal scream.
St. John’s Cathedral near Columbia University, up Amsterdam to the Columbia campus and down Broadway with a stop at Absolute Bagels on 107th.
We’d talk interior design (Seriously; have you ever been featured in hip domicile-porn mag Apartmento? Thought not.) and hockey, from knuckle pucks to arena songs.
Times Square straight down to Bryant Park, back up to West 54th for afternoon tea at The London.
Her car service supposedly got canceled (ha, right) so if La Wintour ever has to mingle with the plebeians, we hope it’s us. Her Bobness has dry British wit and an encyclopedic mind, two plus marks in any conversation.
14th Street A/C/E subway stop, up the West Side Highway to Chelsea’s main drag, stopping at Boone’s eponymous gallery on west 24th Street.
Chatting with Boone would be like insider trading for art collecting, and just in time for the upcoming Armory Show. After all, Whitney Museum director Adam Weinberg already likened the ride-share program to “one big art project.”
Model-stalking the streets of Soho, up 6th Avenue and cutting over to the Meatpacking District before a drop-off at The Standard Hotel.
Love him or hate him, he’s entertaining as hell. (And again with the blogging!) Terry’s Diary is proof that he gets along with any and everyone — the cast of Jersey Shore, Christina Hendricks, Omar from The Wire…
Down Broadway in Soho, sight-seeing in Chinatown, then back to stomping grounds in Nolita for carb-loading at Epistrophy on Mott Street.
We share a mutual mortal enemy, according to Klausner’s 21 questions with New York mag: “Somebody really shitty who doesn’t eat carbs and hates dogs.” And bad date stories can make even the illest traffic snarl bearable.
David Byrne and Cindy Sherman (together!)
A whirl around Union Square, then up Irving Place, skating the perimeter of Gramercy Park before a cocktail at the Gramercy Park Hotel.
Our favorite alt-couple is a friendly pair, perhaps more approachable than, say, Lou Reed and his artist amour Laurie Anderson. In our fantasies, Cindy Sherman would share makeup tips. Though, come to think of it, we’re pretty certain Byrne prefers bikes to cabs, ride share or no.
11th Avenue at 52nd Street in front of the Daily Show studios, up Central Park West to stroller-friendly brunch territory around 86th and Amsterdam.
Look at Stewart’s face: he’s thinking about Obama’s health care bill. What else would we talk about?
The toniest stretch of Museum Mile, down Fifth Avenue from East 86th to East 70th, looping back up Madison for a stop at The Carlyle.
The Chairman of IAC is scary successful and could offer some legitimate business advice to the likes of bottom-feeding bloggers like us. Not to mention, anyone who can keep Diane von Furstenberg entertained must have some killer moves.