Passenger Story, by anonymous: It was 6 a.m., and I was catching a plane for a business trip. I live in Brooklyn, and you can’t find yellow cabs there, so I called a discount car service.
This driver seemed pleasant enough, and he was a talker.
"Wow, this is great,” the driver began. “I really needed this fare. Thanks man.”
I told him no problem, and told him I was heading to LaGuardia’s Delta terminal.
"Yeah, when dispatch called me to pick you up, I was pretty happy,” the driver continued. “I could use the money. I had a tough weekend."
My curiosity was piqued. "Oh, I’m sorry, what happened?” I asked, figuring he was going to share an amusing yarn in hopes of scoring a bigger tip.
“Well, I was in jail all weekend,” he said. “I just got released, like, an hour ago."
Um, okay. I probed further. “That’s too bad. What happened?"
"Well, the police found cocaine and some drugs in this car. But they weren't my drugs. I leant this car to my friend, and he must have put them in there."
Well shit.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment