the cab ride

It was a cool saturday spring evening. I had been invited to a few parties and things had been going well in the studio so it was a good excuse to let off some steam. It was old friends over dinner at Delfina than afterwards I was to congregate with some other folks down in little italy for some more late night carousing. Dinner was splendid, although there was an incident with one of the vegetarians in our party over some dish which had meat in it.

It looked very much that Francine, the vegetarian who I had just met that evening, was about to throw up after she realized that her dish had meat in it. Well....no shit. It said so on the damn menu. After that her boyfriend, made quite a fuss and muttered threats of non-payment and disgust. It soured the meal a bit for me, but I was about three pints deep and dinner was over anyways. We paid for dinner and said our goodbyes.

I hailed a cab and stepped inside. I had forgotten all about the vegetarian incident and was a bit sociable from the booze. The cabbie looked middle eastern, but if you were to ask me to pinpoint, i would have had better luck throwing a dart at a map. he was in his 40s, with a beard, stout, but seemed approachable.

"How's your night going?"

"Good, it is my daughter's birthday" he answered with a gleam.

"That's terrific, I wish her a happy birthday. You just get on your shift or about to get off?"

"Oh, I just got on. We already did the birthday."

He then went to on to explain to me in great detail about the party, the cake, his daughter's dress, and what he had gotten her. And throughout his description his face was alight and it made me happy listening to him. I didnt' say anything afterwards, but there was a warmness that inhabited the cab.

"Yeah, it's not the best to work at night, but it definitely brings in more money. And it's all for my family, so it's worth it in the end."

I usually have a bad habit about asking cabbies what their "worst rides"ever was and usually it's something about some drunk being too drunk and throwing up in the cab. So I thought nothing of it and went ahead and asked, thinking at least I would be entertained.

The cabbie went silent for minute which at the time I had mistaken for contemplation.

"It was about a year ago, a man got into my cab in the soma. He looked like he was in very big trouble. He didn't tell me to go anywhere, just told me to keep driving around. He was nervous, looked like he hadn't slept for days. When I asked him where he wanted me to take him, he only said keep driving."

There was another silence, but this time the cabbie was giving it for dramatic effect, he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

"Then out of no where he says that there were two men at his house trying to kill him."

"What were they trying to kill him for?"

"He hired them."

"Why would anyone do something like that?"

"He said he went into his bar one day and he knew some guys there. he got really drunk and he hired these guys to kill him."

I thought about Hemingway's short story "the killers". Then I thought about what a fool-hardy, cop out way that was to kill yourself, but still above stopping traffic by pretending to jump off the bay bridge during traffic hours.

"So what'd he do?"

"Well we just kept driving around for about three hours. At the end he handed me about $300 and I dropped him off at Harrison and 7th, right under the overpass. I asked him if he wanted help, maybe we could go to the cops or something, but he didn't want help. He just got out of the cab and walked off. I checked the newspapers for the next few days, but I saw nothing."

It was a quiet ride after that. He dropped me off at columbus and broadway and i bid him a good night. I had lost my buzz by then and knew a little bit how Francine had felt earlier.