Cabbie Story...

Okay, so I have not been posting cartoons the past few days for a couple of reasons.

Reason 1: I’m going on vacation this Wednesday, and I have been really busy.

Reason 2: I’m lazy.

Okay, I promised a cabbie (cabby?) story in my post title so here goes…


Last night I decided I would go to my girlfriend’s house (she knows who she is) to hang out because I would not see her until I returned from my vacation. It was kind of late at night, and I was traveling alone so I decided to take a cab.

Well…

I managed to hail a cab on Broad and Ritner. As the cab slowed to a stop – in the middle of Broad Street – I realized that the driver was a woman. In the three or four seconds I had to think about it, I realized I had never been in a cab that was being driven by a woman. In fact, I had never seen a female cab driver before last night. So, in my mind, this woman was a trailblazer, the Amelia Earhart of cab drivers. Unfortunately, the ride turned out a lot like Amelia’s transatlantic flight in the sense that I have no idea what happened in between Point A and Point B.

“Where are you going?”

“Ummm, [DESTINATION], please.”

“My air conditioner just turned off. It’s off. It stopped working. If you want to get out now, get out now.”

I should have gotten out.

“No, that’s fine…”

The entire trip up Broad Street I was treated to lectures on behavioral patterns and the moons effect on the human psyche.

“Tonight there’s an eclipse. You see the moon there? It’s almost full. I don’t know if you can see it because it’s so low, but the eclipse is going to happen in about an hour…”

Feigning interest, “Yeah…I’ll maybe check it out.”

Then, almost cutting, “Okay, you don’t care. I care about the moon.”

It was getting creepier.

Her car could go no more that 25 miles an hour and the check engine light was glaring on her dash, but that did not stop her as she unflinchingly blared her horn at anything that was not moving fast enough for her.

Then…

“You know, strange things tend to happen during full moons…”

Great!

She’s a fucking werewolf.

Or maybe I’ll be lucky enough that all she wants is my severed penis to add to her moon shrine.

“Lots of premature births…”

Oh. Those kinds of weird things. Still. Creepy.

We were getting really close to where I was going, and my nervous laughter was turning into legitimate fear. I was riding with Travis Bickle sans the dick on the night of a full moon.

Luckily, her ire shifted from my apparent moon apathy to an Asian man on a bicycle. I was beginning to think that her air conditioner turned off because her overuse of the horn was draining the car’s battery.

I know nothing about cars.

So, we pulled to the corner of my destination.

“Cash or credit.”

“Cash”

“$7.50.”

Handing her a twenty, “Can I just have ten back?”

She glared into my eyes, and it was the closest I’ve ever felt to death.

“I can’t handle this. Three people just gave me twenties.”

Here it comes, I thought. My life was on the line, and all I could say was:

“This is all I have.”

“Well, then just get out.”

Okay.

“Okay.”

Okay.

I got out, but not before I said this:

“Thanks, have a great night.”

And not before she said:

“Okay, go fuck yourself.”

To which I said:

“What did you just say to me?”

After which she replied:

“I said go flax yourself.”

“Oh,” I said.

I got out.

The moon eclipsed last night at 07:53:39 UTC.