And trust me people, I've had plenty of these moments, but I thought this one was fairly typical and emblematic of the debacle that is my life these days. Flash back to two nights ago, post Natalie's shift at Barrage, and of course, a few cocktails surging through my system. I take a seven dollar cab ride home, and carelessly take the wad of change the cabbie hands me without even giving it a thought. I count three dollars as the driver peels away, and realize that I've been jipped out of a ten spot. Instead of just counting my losses like a normal person would over ten bucks, I decide to sprint down the street after the cab at 3 in the morning, messenger bag flailing and coattails a-flyin'. I believe it to be a munificent sign of fate when the cab is halted by a red light at the end of my block, and with rock-steady fist, frighten the driver into opening his passenger side window.
Me: (Politely) Umm, excuse me, but I think you forgot to give me a ten back also.
Cabbie: Oh sorry Miss, but you gave me ten dollah.
Me: (Pausing, thinking): Oh yeah, you're right, sorry about that.
I slinked out of his window pretty certain that I was the biggest asshole on the Upper West Side at that point. However, this assumption usually doesn't change on a daily basis.
Gyped
Posted by: Plan B | April 01, 2005 at 01:41 PM
It would have been lots more embarrassing had you kept arguing with him only to check your funds and find the twenty you swore you had given to him! One of the bar patrons did that to me and even called me a thief! I was angry, but boy it felt good to see his alcohol induced ruby cheeks and nose turn into a fire engine red face! hah! (Wait. Does this mean I'm siding with the cabbie?)
Posted by: Chef Pot Roast | April 01, 2005 at 04:54 PM