Like, I ain’t gonna talk except to tell him where I’m going, to give him directions, and then to pay up. If he makes conversation, I’m going to ignore him. And if he demands I get into the conversation, I will throw myself out of the cab.
Taxi drivers in this city where I live and work are all of one set of paramecium not-even-brains. Here’s what makes me say that.
Like my sister says: don’t me. Don’t even.