The Jamaican cabbie was racing up New Jersey Avenue.
"Don't worry Mon, I'll git ju to dere on time. I know short cuts. I got the knowledge."
"Thats well and good", the passenger snorted from the back seat as he shifted and swayed to the left from the cabbies sharp right turn.
"Hold on Mon; or you be rollin round like a melon ball with all the space you got back dere".
The old LTD had space alright. It was one of those mid 90 monstrosities that forgot about the 70's oil embargo. It was a down right clunker. Spittin fumes out of its tail pipe, the cab's front wheel panels were rattling in perfect rhythm to Buffalo Soldiers playing on the cabbies portable cassette deck. The radio was busted because the cabbie broke the antenna off the hood to whip ass on a would be mugger that tried to rob him a couple years ago. Man he whipped that crack heads ass but good.
But the cabbie was right in his observation about his passenger; an exceedingly well dressed and very round white guy whose face was wet dripping droplets of sweat onto his nice pink tie. He looked anxious as he jostled himself to stare out the windows first the front windshield then the side rear. The late afternoon light was most unkind to the man; revealing a pasty honey dew complexion that was simply ghastly.
He most definitely looked accustomed to using finer modes of travel but the Jamaican cowboy at the wheel was his best shot at making the 3:35 Palmetto to Charleston.
"I've been walking the halls of congress all week fella. I'm exhausted. I must get home though. My Mother has not been feeling well these past few months. She is in her 80's and I worry that she's knocking around the old house all by her lonesome. When I'm away and gone for so long she worries about me. I just wish she would move into my Georgetown Townhouse. I have plenty of room. But she is so attached. She won't let it go." The fare's voice tailed off and wistfully looked out of the passenger window.
"This is the last train out for today."
"We'll Mon I'll take ya to the airport. You can ride on a jet plane. They fly all da time"
"Oh no, that would not do. I like to stretch out. I prefer the room of the train."
Indeed. If this guy rode in a plane he probably be charged for two seats. He'd be hard pressed to fit in one. This guy is every air travelers nightmare. No one wants to be seated next to him.
The cabbie made another left and you could see the clunky Classicism of Union Station. The entrance way was a swirl of people darting in and out of the many arched entrance ways. Street vendors were plying their wares and a mass of others were loitering about in the afternoon sunshine.
At the curb, a bearded black cop was hassling a man who was illegally idling his Sierra minivan in a no parking lane. A woman and 2 small girls were getting out of the van. Each one sporting a pink backpack. Both cradled cabbage patch dolls in the nest of their arms. One was patting her dolls hair while the other was kissing its hand. Both were cooing soft assurances that all was well. The frenetic woman circled the girls like a hen guarding errant chicks; while the man driving the van pulled luggage out it's rear door as he jawed away with the cop. The policeman repeatedly pointed to a no parking sign as he swooped his arm into a circular motion to convey the urgency that this guys got to move his ass.
"Keep it moving buddy." Blaring horns and the vibrant arpeggio of honks grew louder and more urgent as a caravan of departures edged closer to the drop off point.
Dashing commuters quickly passed with seeming ambivalence. Everyone was tricked out with an electronic gadget. They were either talking on cell phones, texting on Blueberries or securing dangling white IPOD headphone wires. Wearing torn jeans and hooded sweaters, back pack toting college students mixed with neatly suited government bureaucrats behaving like business executives and low income budget travelers. Based on their speed of pace or ease of gait; they whisked through the plaza with varying degrees of urgency.
The mother finally got her chicks in order. She kissed her husband goodbye and started schlepping the two large wheeling carryons offloaded from the van. The straps of a large orange shoulder bag crossed her breast like brazen bandoleers. The bag she neatly secured underneath her right arm. Relieved from parental responsibilities, the man flashed a huge smile as he waved to his kids, jumped into the van and glided away into the DC streets.
The cabbie looked at his watch. It was 3:20. His passenger had 15 minutes to walk through the terminal and get his ass on the train. He believed his passenger had a good shot at making the 3:35. That is if he doesn't get distracted by a Cinnabon.
"That'll be $22.50 Mon." The passenger started rolling around again. He was trying to position his body so he could dislodge the wallet from his hip pocket. He keeps it there for safekeeping from pickpockets.
The cabbie popped the trunk. Cabs, cars and buses were belching smoke, honking horns as they jostled for space under the no parking signs while the fare continued to wrestle with his pocket pants.
The bearded cop slowly started to walk toward the cab. "Hey cabs drop off over there." he shouted. The cabbie shrugged, "Ya Mon. He's runnin a bit late." I'm pushin off soon." The cop was reaching for his ticket book.
Finally the passenger liberated his wallet from his tight fitting pants.
"Do you take American Express", he quizzed.
"I take only cash Mon. Here is de sign that's been staring you at the face for the last 20 minutes." He tapped the Plexiglas enclosed memo. The passenger knew he had a few twenties. He opened his wallet. He looked inside.
BOOM!
"Don't worry Mon, I'll git ju to dere on time. I know short cuts. I got the knowledge."
"Thats well and good", the passenger snorted from the back seat as he shifted and swayed to the left from the cabbies sharp right turn.
"Hold on Mon; or you be rollin round like a melon ball with all the space you got back dere".
The old LTD had space alright. It was one of those mid 90 monstrosities that forgot about the 70's oil embargo. It was a down right clunker. Spittin fumes out of its tail pipe, the cab's front wheel panels were rattling in perfect rhythm to Buffalo Soldiers playing on the cabbies portable cassette deck. The radio was busted because the cabbie broke the antenna off the hood to whip ass on a would be mugger that tried to rob him a couple years ago. Man he whipped that crack heads ass but good.
But the cabbie was right in his observation about his passenger; an exceedingly well dressed and very round white guy whose face was wet dripping droplets of sweat onto his nice pink tie. He looked anxious as he jostled himself to stare out the windows first the front windshield then the side rear. The late afternoon light was most unkind to the man; revealing a pasty honey dew complexion that was simply ghastly.
He most definitely looked accustomed to using finer modes of travel but the Jamaican cowboy at the wheel was his best shot at making the 3:35 Palmetto to Charleston.
"I've been walking the halls of congress all week fella. I'm exhausted. I must get home though. My Mother has not been feeling well these past few months. She is in her 80's and I worry that she's knocking around the old house all by her lonesome. When I'm away and gone for so long she worries about me. I just wish she would move into my Georgetown Townhouse. I have plenty of room. But she is so attached. She won't let it go." The fare's voice tailed off and wistfully looked out of the passenger window.
"This is the last train out for today."
"We'll Mon I'll take ya to the airport. You can ride on a jet plane. They fly all da time"
"Oh no, that would not do. I like to stretch out. I prefer the room of the train."
Indeed. If this guy rode in a plane he probably be charged for two seats. He'd be hard pressed to fit in one. This guy is every air travelers nightmare. No one wants to be seated next to him.
The cabbie made another left and you could see the clunky Classicism of Union Station. The entrance way was a swirl of people darting in and out of the many arched entrance ways. Street vendors were plying their wares and a mass of others were loitering about in the afternoon sunshine.
At the curb, a bearded black cop was hassling a man who was illegally idling his Sierra minivan in a no parking lane. A woman and 2 small girls were getting out of the van. Each one sporting a pink backpack. Both cradled cabbage patch dolls in the nest of their arms. One was patting her dolls hair while the other was kissing its hand. Both were cooing soft assurances that all was well. The frenetic woman circled the girls like a hen guarding errant chicks; while the man driving the van pulled luggage out it's rear door as he jawed away with the cop. The policeman repeatedly pointed to a no parking sign as he swooped his arm into a circular motion to convey the urgency that this guys got to move his ass.
"Keep it moving buddy." Blaring horns and the vibrant arpeggio of honks grew louder and more urgent as a caravan of departures edged closer to the drop off point.
Dashing commuters quickly passed with seeming ambivalence. Everyone was tricked out with an electronic gadget. They were either talking on cell phones, texting on Blueberries or securing dangling white IPOD headphone wires. Wearing torn jeans and hooded sweaters, back pack toting college students mixed with neatly suited government bureaucrats behaving like business executives and low income budget travelers. Based on their speed of pace or ease of gait; they whisked through the plaza with varying degrees of urgency.
The mother finally got her chicks in order. She kissed her husband goodbye and started schlepping the two large wheeling carryons offloaded from the van. The straps of a large orange shoulder bag crossed her breast like brazen bandoleers. The bag she neatly secured underneath her right arm. Relieved from parental responsibilities, the man flashed a huge smile as he waved to his kids, jumped into the van and glided away into the DC streets.
The cabbie looked at his watch. It was 3:20. His passenger had 15 minutes to walk through the terminal and get his ass on the train. He believed his passenger had a good shot at making the 3:35. That is if he doesn't get distracted by a Cinnabon.
"That'll be $22.50 Mon." The passenger started rolling around again. He was trying to position his body so he could dislodge the wallet from his hip pocket. He keeps it there for safekeeping from pickpockets.
The cabbie popped the trunk. Cabs, cars and buses were belching smoke, honking horns as they jostled for space under the no parking signs while the fare continued to wrestle with his pocket pants.
The bearded cop slowly started to walk toward the cab. "Hey cabs drop off over there." he shouted. The cabbie shrugged, "Ya Mon. He's runnin a bit late." I'm pushin off soon." The cop was reaching for his ticket book.
Finally the passenger liberated his wallet from his tight fitting pants.
"Do you take American Express", he quizzed.
"I take only cash Mon. Here is de sign that's been staring you at the face for the last 20 minutes." He tapped the Plexiglas enclosed memo. The passenger knew he had a few twenties. He opened his wallet. He looked inside.
BOOM!
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