Another Saturday night in the Twilight Zone.  The whole doomsday prophecy came and went with a 0.0 magnitude earthquake striking NYC…although it did rain though.

I had just dropped some Eurotrash chick off on Bleeker and MacDougal streets and decided to continue up that annoyingly crowded stretch which almost ensures you of picking up a passenger at 330am.  This chick hails me down just past the light and I have to find a way to pull over; I was gonna allow her in regardless but she felt obliged to ask me anyway because I’m sure a few cabs with their off-duty lights on had already passed her.  Yes I’d be going into Brooklyn, but right in the downtown area at the Mariott right off the Brooklyn Bridge.  Oddly enough, it was merely my 2nd trip into BK that night (on an average Saturday I find myself making at least 4-5 BK trips).

All of a sudden I hear a never ending stream of sniffling.  In my head I’m thinkin “here we go again” and figure this was some case of gettin played by some dude.  Saturday nights + drinks= boyfriend/girlfriend tiff or breakup.  I don’t bother asking right away though.  It’s not until she asks me near Canal street about how to get back on the Jersey Turnpike that I finally get some answers.

Her (crying): I’m so sorry for crying in your cab I know it must be annoying.
DK’s Brain: Yes you do sound pathetic.
DK’s Heart: Show some damn compassion man.
Me: What happened to you if you don’t mind me asking?
Her: I did something really stupid tonight and feel like it’s all my fault…because my friend warned me about it but I still didn’t listen. (cries)
DK’s Brain: Saturday night hijinks…OH BOY.
Me: Like what though?
Her: I drove four hours to meet this guy that I had been talking to for two years…you would have thought that you would know everything about that person over a course of two years…but I guess I was wrong. (cries)
Me: Well damn, sorry to hear that.
Her: And I should have listened to my friend because she warned me but I didn’t listen.
Me: Did you have a gut instinct though?
Her: Yes.
Me: It’s a tough situation because eventually yall were gonna have to meet up but it looks bad on you because you were the one to put the effort in.  Who is he though?
Her: He’s a football player.
Me: Oh damn.  Professional?
Her: Not really, he plays for a non-profit league.
Me: Sounds fishy.
DK’s Brain: Maybe he’s a professional touch football player.  He probably ain’t shit.
Me: It happens to people though, whether online or in person.  It’s just riskier online because you’re either gonna find gold or concrete.
DK’s Brain: Or in her case another vibrator session when she gets home.
Her: You’re so right.  Thank you for calming me down a lot (crying).

She also thought her drink had been spiked.  I don’t know if she was driving home right then and there at 345am though…I guess she had booked a couple of nights at this hotel too; what a bad look overall.  It wasn’t her night to say the least and havin to drive back four hours (I’m assuming she came in from DC if that’s the case) red-eye style??  Brutal.  I shoulda told her to skype me.

Yo, imagine  if I really asked if I could stop by for a few minutes and “console” her tho?  Nah, I actually never thought of that until I got home myself about an hour and a half later.  It wouldn’t have happened tho.  And so on.


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May 2011
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