Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Why NYC Scares Me: Reason 586 of 2750284038

This story is a little old, but I was reminded of it a minute ago as I received a Tweet from Zak Bagans saying,
"In a cab with the driver he's 80 years old and is driving like mario andrettie and keeps cursing... this dude rocks"
Please keep in mind I wrote it verbatim, sans punctuation, proper spelling and the like. Anyway, I was brought back to this past New Years.

When the Jersey Shore took over the bar we were at, we decided to call it a night. The walk from the bar to Grand Central wasn't that bad, but after being on our feet in our stilettos, it seemed almost unbearable. Allie quickly made it known that the girls were NOT walking, and although the men of the group were insisting that there would be no way we could hail a cab on New Years, Allie almost immediately proved them wrong.

I don't want to say I was a non-believer but I did secure my own ride, and when I heard her calling me to get in the cab, I quickly jumped off The Rag's back and ran over to the yellow slice 'o heaven. 

The driver... was a creeper. Some form of Middle Eastern and clearly had no issues with letting us know exactly what was on his mind. About us, about the girl in the little blue piece of fabric (blue was his favorite color - he slowed down to offer her a ride), about how much he likes boobies and let's not forget the deal - if we flashed boobies, our ride was discounted. Not free, but discounted. Classy.

When there were no more, "oh my God, look at HER"'s he asked, "so you guys are all already drunk, huh?" - I'm paraphrasing here, I can't quite remember the exact creepy question he asked, but Allie didn't think twice before answering, "YUP!" NO, ALLISON! NO! Why would you ever admit that?! I had to try and save it, "not me! Totally sober." And I was, I wasn't lying, but he also had to know that there was no way he was going to see/touch/lick/whatever any type of boobie in that disgusting cab.

Before we reached our destination, Allie told him to stop by a bank so we could get cash out of the ATM. When he pulled up along the cub outside of the bank, Allie jumped out, leaving Maggie and I in the cab so that he'd be rest assured that we weren't going to bail without paying (which we completely should've done). What does Maggie do? She closes the cab door. NO, MAGGIE! NO! Why would you DO that?! What if this creeper wanted to drive us off and do awful, disgusting things? You'd be okay because you're wasted, but me? I'd be conscious of the whole debacle! 

Allie runs back to the cab, gets in and a few blocks later we were at the glorious train station and we're not sure how it happened, but the guys were already there, half-eaten wraps in-hand. At least we didn't have to walk.

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