This morning I was late for work because my dresser attacked me, so I had to take a cab. No big deal. I get into the cab, and see that the driver appears to be rather dishy. Well, I don't know that he was dishy as much as he was wearing a tweed sportscoat... and I have a longstanding weakness for men in tweed sportscoats. But anyway, we got to talking, and he was a Frenchman from Algiers, and then proceded to explain colonization to me, which I explained that I understood from having taken history classes and reading Camus. Also, there's a movie with Hedy Lamarr. Then we got to talking about Italy, and how it's pretty much the best place ever, By the time we got to my stop, dude was still chatting about the train from Naples to Palermo for like, five minutes, which was cool because I ended up being a little early anyway.
But then he turned around. Dude had like four teeth in his head and they were all black. Shiny black, like an oil slick. It was nothing if not disturbing. And he wasn't even that old- he was only a little older than me. How does that even happen? I mean, you'd basically have to not brush your teeth for 20 years straight, right? I've never seen anything like it.
As a result, I have flossed four times today.
Showing posts with label Cab Rides. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cab Rides. Show all posts
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The whimsical story of the cabbie who was wrong about everything in life.
It's been an interesting couple of days. For one, on Friday, I was late to work and took a cab. I get in the cab and the dude is all "I can't talk for a second, I gotta figure out what the title of this song is so I can play it when I DJ tonight." The song, by the way, was "Lovely Day" by Bill Withers, and the only words in the chorus are "Lovely Day" so I'm not sure why that was so hard to figure out. So, anyway, dude then tells me that he owns the cab company and just drives them for fun, because "No woman wants a man with no money. You know what I'm saying?"
"Sure" I say, even though I do not agree in any fashion. I have my own damned money, and very, very little interest in discussing the subject ever.
"I don't like to wake up in the morning unless I got a thousand dollars on my dresser" he says.
I couldn't resist... "So, what, are you like, a hooker?"
He then proceeds to inform me that while he was not in fact a hooker, he could be, because he's got "the good dick," and that if that were the case, he would do me for free. Because I am "sexy as hell." Which was not true at all at that point in the morning, mind you.
So then he asks me about my man at home, which I don't have (in case you didn't know), and I say he is super. It doesn't mean much, though, he says, unless he's got the good dick.
I say nothing. He then takes this opportunity to tell me about how much money he makes djing places like, um, Indiana and Miami. And how he knows The Beastie Boys and djed for Naz.
"Neat" I say. He continues the bragging until I get out of the cab. He offers his phone number and I do not take it.
I just... I don't know, I find it interesting how totally, totally wrong this dude was about everything a lady like myself might want in a fella. Or, I mean... any woman, really. I've never heard any chick I know say anything like "Yeah, he was totally dreamy. I mean, all that bragging and ostentacious name dropping and casually mentioning how much money he made and how totally important he was, was like, so hot. Who doesn't love that? Worlds of sexiness I tell you!"
To that, my friend, I say this:
But, for real, I felt kind of insulted. Like as far as this guy was concerned, women care about the following things:
1. How much money you make (I don't care because I have my own)
2. How totally important you are and how many famous people you have casually met (I don't care, because, really, that has no effect on whether or not you are a jerk. They could also be jerks for all I know, or have nothing interesting to say. How does that help me?)
3. The good dick. (You can get that shit at the porn store)
Which makes us seem pretty shallow. If he had instead focused on the following list:
1. Not being a jerk/having good manners
2. Being funny
3. Being well groomed
I bet you things would work out better for him. As of now, he's just really, really insulting.
"Sure" I say, even though I do not agree in any fashion. I have my own damned money, and very, very little interest in discussing the subject ever.
"I don't like to wake up in the morning unless I got a thousand dollars on my dresser" he says.
I couldn't resist... "So, what, are you like, a hooker?"
He then proceeds to inform me that while he was not in fact a hooker, he could be, because he's got "the good dick," and that if that were the case, he would do me for free. Because I am "sexy as hell." Which was not true at all at that point in the morning, mind you.
So then he asks me about my man at home, which I don't have (in case you didn't know), and I say he is super. It doesn't mean much, though, he says, unless he's got the good dick.
I say nothing. He then takes this opportunity to tell me about how much money he makes djing places like, um, Indiana and Miami. And how he knows The Beastie Boys and djed for Naz.
"Neat" I say. He continues the bragging until I get out of the cab. He offers his phone number and I do not take it.
I just... I don't know, I find it interesting how totally, totally wrong this dude was about everything a lady like myself might want in a fella. Or, I mean... any woman, really. I've never heard any chick I know say anything like "Yeah, he was totally dreamy. I mean, all that bragging and ostentacious name dropping and casually mentioning how much money he made and how totally important he was, was like, so hot. Who doesn't love that? Worlds of sexiness I tell you!"
To that, my friend, I say this:
But, for real, I felt kind of insulted. Like as far as this guy was concerned, women care about the following things:
1. How much money you make (I don't care because I have my own)
2. How totally important you are and how many famous people you have casually met (I don't care, because, really, that has no effect on whether or not you are a jerk. They could also be jerks for all I know, or have nothing interesting to say. How does that help me?)
3. The good dick. (You can get that shit at the porn store)
Which makes us seem pretty shallow. If he had instead focused on the following list:
1. Not being a jerk/having good manners
2. Being funny
3. Being well groomed
I bet you things would work out better for him. As of now, he's just really, really insulting.
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