Leer in the rear view
Someone must have branded an "X" on my forehead while I was sleeping. Like, "Hellooooo, over here. Total sucker over here!" Or maybe karma is a bitch and I got mine for all the times I've ranted in the back seat of a cab, piss drunk and needing the loo. "You don't undershtan'...I realleh have to pee!"
I had a bag of stuff with me to take with me, since we'd be out of town until next week. I suggested to C we share a cab downtown, so he can be dropped off at the Social Security offices and I go to work from there. It was a totally normal, pleasant ride until we dropped C off. Then, things turned funny.
I should have suspected something right away, because the driver became chatty. And not only was he chatty, but I understood every word he said. I got one of the few New York City cab drivers who spoke fluent, accent-free English. If that's not an omen, then I don't know what is.
So he's chatting away about getting ticketed by the police and I agreeably "Uh huh" and "Right" along, thinking about a cup of coffee. At one point, he starts talking about his fiancee and baby, so I'm thinking, "This guy's normal. He's not going to hit on me or anything". Because it's always a concern when you have a highly loquacious cabby and you're only one girl in the car.
But then he drops the bomb.
"I met my fiancee when she was 24, and she was a virgin. I taught her everything I know. That's quite a lot." Leer.
I snap to from my coffee thought. The best response is no response. "Right. Okay. The building will be on the right hand side after you pull onto the avenue."
He shifts back to safer territory. "We fight a lot. We're both Geminis. You think that has something to do with it?"
The New Jersey in me pops out. You know, the part of the country where strangers actually converse with other strangers, regardless of what they may have just said 5 minutes ago. "Oh yeah, one of my closest friends and my dad are Geminis! Makes sense."
He nods. "Yeah, tell me about it. That's what I don't get. I'm blankety-blankety-blank-blanking to her blankety-blank-blank and then we get in a fight. She just totally goes Jekyll and Hyde on me."
After I pull my eyebrows down from my forehead, having heard something that can't be repeated in any public forum without nauseating everyone, I hold out my money as he pulls up to the curb. I wonder for a moment if someone from the Howard Stern show is going to pop out from the passenger seat, like "Surprise!", and we'll all slap our knees and have a good laugh about it.
Instead, he turns around to look at me and says, "You got a minute?" I'm still rendered mute from his last comment and trying to quell my shock. He takes this as affirmative and continues. As he espouses on his issues with maturing his fiancee sexually, I feel like I've got my face pressed to the windows, mentally screaming to the people outside to help me. He's totally turned the tables on me and now the taxi driver, not the passenger, has become the confessor.
Finally, after what seems eons as he keeps talking and holding my change in my hand, a guy walks up to the cab having the seen the light go back on. Instead, my driver puts the car into park, waves the person away, and continues talking. What am I? Dr. Judy?
I just don't want to know.
Finally, I grab my bag, say "Keep the change" and hurtle myself onto the sidewalk, gulping down breaths of clean, fresh air. I'm feeling dirty and gross with the assault of way too much information at 8:30 am, having just heard the most intimate details of the cabby's sex life.
I like my random subjections to other people's perversions to be a little more short-lived, so it's back to riding the subway for me. I'll take the risk of being flashed, or having my ass patted by a dirty old man, over this any day of the week.
I had a bag of stuff with me to take with me, since we'd be out of town until next week. I suggested to C we share a cab downtown, so he can be dropped off at the Social Security offices and I go to work from there. It was a totally normal, pleasant ride until we dropped C off. Then, things turned funny.
I should have suspected something right away, because the driver became chatty. And not only was he chatty, but I understood every word he said. I got one of the few New York City cab drivers who spoke fluent, accent-free English. If that's not an omen, then I don't know what is.
So he's chatting away about getting ticketed by the police and I agreeably "Uh huh" and "Right" along, thinking about a cup of coffee. At one point, he starts talking about his fiancee and baby, so I'm thinking, "This guy's normal. He's not going to hit on me or anything". Because it's always a concern when you have a highly loquacious cabby and you're only one girl in the car.
But then he drops the bomb.
"I met my fiancee when she was 24, and she was a virgin. I taught her everything I know. That's quite a lot." Leer.
I snap to from my coffee thought. The best response is no response. "Right. Okay. The building will be on the right hand side after you pull onto the avenue."
He shifts back to safer territory. "We fight a lot. We're both Geminis. You think that has something to do with it?"
The New Jersey in me pops out. You know, the part of the country where strangers actually converse with other strangers, regardless of what they may have just said 5 minutes ago. "Oh yeah, one of my closest friends and my dad are Geminis! Makes sense."
He nods. "Yeah, tell me about it. That's what I don't get. I'm blankety-blankety-blank-blanking to her blankety-blank-blank and then we get in a fight. She just totally goes Jekyll and Hyde on me."
After I pull my eyebrows down from my forehead, having heard something that can't be repeated in any public forum without nauseating everyone, I hold out my money as he pulls up to the curb. I wonder for a moment if someone from the Howard Stern show is going to pop out from the passenger seat, like "Surprise!", and we'll all slap our knees and have a good laugh about it.
Instead, he turns around to look at me and says, "You got a minute?" I'm still rendered mute from his last comment and trying to quell my shock. He takes this as affirmative and continues. As he espouses on his issues with maturing his fiancee sexually, I feel like I've got my face pressed to the windows, mentally screaming to the people outside to help me. He's totally turned the tables on me and now the taxi driver, not the passenger, has become the confessor.
Finally, after what seems eons as he keeps talking and holding my change in my hand, a guy walks up to the cab having the seen the light go back on. Instead, my driver puts the car into park, waves the person away, and continues talking. What am I? Dr. Judy?
I just don't want to know.
Finally, I grab my bag, say "Keep the change" and hurtle myself onto the sidewalk, gulping down breaths of clean, fresh air. I'm feeling dirty and gross with the assault of way too much information at 8:30 am, having just heard the most intimate details of the cabby's sex life.
I like my random subjections to other people's perversions to be a little more short-lived, so it's back to riding the subway for me. I'll take the risk of being flashed, or having my ass patted by a dirty old man, over this any day of the week.
posted by Currin Girl at 11:32 AM
1 Comments:
Thank you for leading the revolt by “good listeners” everywhere. My mouth wettens as I contemplate the treasure trove of sexual know-how conveyed to the 24-year-old virgin by the New York City cabbie. Perhaps rather than just sharing with her, he should give his gift of carnal knowledge to the world by starring in his own Learning Annex course. You and I can collaborate on the promo.
Your experience compares favorably to my being recently trapped in a cubicle by a just-off-the-boat mail order bride from Moldova, as she peppered me with the most salient details of her life with her new American husband. Good times.
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