And with the 4,561st pick of the draft, the Seahawks pick…
THIS MAN LOCKED ME INSIDE HIS CAB.
Fuck this man. Fuck him so hard in the fucking face that his brain dies.
A long day of work and play and it was time to go home, so I was treating myself to a cab. One of the new Nissan Future Taxis picked me up. These things are spacious, but also have a very high separation wall, so you really don’t get a good view of the driver. I told the cab driver to take me to Queens via the Midtown tunnel. We arrived at my destination, which is always across the street from my apartment building. I have never felt comfortable letting a cab driver know where I live. I paid the fair with a credit card. The driver told me I still owed him for the toll. I told him I have never paid separately for a toll before. He told me to wait a minute, but I did not see him doing anything, the separation wall is high. I told him he should have added it in, I already paid the fare. He told me to wait a minute. I was feeling very uncomfortable and his behavior was feeling shady. I went to open the door and it was locked. I told him to unlock the door. He told me to wait a minute. I got LOUD and told him to unlock the door. He told me to wait a minute. I threatened to call the cops twice or more before he finally unlocked the door. I got out and walked the opposite direction. The Cab Driver got out, I turned around and he was pulling his unzipped pants up as he came around to the back of the cab. I yelled some things at him about jerking off that I can’t quite remember. They were not witty or clever, they were freaked out and coming from a place of shock. He told me he was having me banished or some shit and was pointing to the sky. I stepped into the street to take a photo of the license and he blocked the license plate. My body started shaking realizing what was happening. Something I can’t prove. But I will say it. This pile of garbage was keeping me locked inside his cab so he could jerk off with me in there. God knows if he had any other plans. I started officially walking away and called my husband and could barely get the words out. I started shaking and had to think really hard to get my body to move towards my building. Thankfully there is a median on the street I live on, so the Cab Driver could not make a U-turn and follow me. I made it to my buildings driveway and froze, a few minutes later, from a safe distance. I saw the cab driver pass. My husband found me shivering and crying, frozen in place.
I have no proof is limp dick was in his hands while I was in the cab.
I can’t prove the door was locked and he refused to let me out.
I can and did dispute the charges on my credit card.
I can and did file a complaint with T & L commission.
If I ever take a cab again, I guess my first move is to always take a photo of their license and request the doors remain wide open while I am driven home.
FUCK THIS CAB DRIVER.
FUCK HIM IN THE FACE UNTIL HIS BRAIN DIES.
Fuck this piece of human garbage cab driver.
I am standing at the front of the line to get into a beer hall that just opened in my neighborhood. I am by myself. I am meeting people inside. Several people keep walking past me to ask the bouncer if they can get in because “they have friends in there.” Which makes me ask the question: who do they think I am? They must think I’m the saddest human being on the face of the earth.
I am not the saddest person! I am a regular person! I have friends! Do I LOOK like the saddest?! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??!!
--Tagged under: winstonhatesphotos--
dr. heckle and mr. snide
santa and satan “the same letters changed around”
the turkey jerky boys?
and nun chucks
that is all
I got off the C train one stop early tonight, just to walk a bit farther and get some air, and passed by a Cuban restaurant in Fort Greene. West Side Story was being projected onto the wall outside in the restaurant’s courtyard, and the the noise was playing just softly enough that everyone within the restaurant could easily hear, but like a siren it was luring all of us on the other side of the fence to look up. There was a crowd forming, all standing in rapt attention, watching Tony and Maria sing “Tonight, Tonight” to each other. Every single person, regardless of age, race or company stopped and silently watched the scene. An old man emerged from the subway, looked up and leaned on a tree. A young couple grasping on the fence watched through the wire, and she rested her head on his shoulder. A group of teenagers stopped screaming and making fun of each other, and stood still and just watched. No one dared interrupt the song. Couples hugged each other closer, and you could see the loneliness in the faces of those people who were watching alone. It was like a window into all of their lost relationships. The song ended and everyone broke the silence and walked away, as if nothing happened.
There is nothing remarkable about this event, but I’ve been listening to that song all night. And I’m going to fall asleep to it now.