It was in the 80s. I was crashing on someone's couch in the Bronx. One night, I wanted to see Don Pullen pianoing at Lush Life in Greenwich Village. I got on a train at White Plains Road and got off when I was sure I was in Manhattan. I didn't pay any attention to numbers, and wasn't sure what to do, other than continue walking aimlessly down X Avenue or Y Street. Hailed a cab; "Take me to Lush Life", I said. We got there in X minutes. The cab driver asked for his $X fare. Trouble ensued...