The guy I rode with the other night after spending fourteen hours in the office, was polite and well-mannered, but his driving was so jerky and heavy footed that my neck hurt after only a few blocks. He chose a route that took us out of the way and onto an avenue that’s known for heavy traffic even late at night. He had a habit of driving in the leftmost lane, so he was constantly getting stuck behind double-parked cars and drivers waiting to turn. Then he would fight his way into the moving traffic lanes by cutting off other drivers - I heard a lot of honking horns that night - and then he would punch the accelator for half a block and then slam on his brakes at the intersection. The lights were usually red, because the wasted so much time trying to get past easily avoidable obstacles.
At one point, I was tempted to pay the driver and walk the rest of the way home, but I heard shouting outside. Another cab was stopped beside us. A handful of angry people were causing a commotion, rocking the cab, and yelling “get out!” I couldn’t see clearly what was going on, but several bystanders were watching from the sidewalk, including an elderly Muslim man standing two women with covered heads. (His wives, perhaps?) It was a tense scene, and I sensed danger without fully understanding what was going on.
Distracted and confused by the commotion, I procrastinated on my decision to bail from the cab. The light turned green, and the driver punched the accelerator with aggression. Luckily, traffic opened up a bit and we hit a string of green lights. I paid the guy, went upstairs, and took an Advil for my neck.
Copyright © 2018 Daniel R. South
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