Yeah! You heard me right. Some mother-fucking asshole jumped out of my cab while it was in full motion because he didn't want to pay the $1.40 in sales tax! I totally freaked, lost complete control of the cab, and found myself spinning round and round and round for at least five fucking minutes in morning rush hour traffic - cars dodging me this way and that. At first i think i was freaked about the nutcase who jumped out of my cab, but then I think I was more upset that I might wreck the cab. Why do I fucking care so much about the goddamned cabs? I only take the worst, piece-of-shit Crown Vic's now because I am sooo concerned about putting a scratch or dent where there wasn't one before. I hate this job! I really, really hate this job! I mean it is just such a wholly unique category of suck than anything I have ever known. So why do I care if I get fired?
I guess it doesn't matter now. If I don't get fired, then my boss is insane. If I don't quit, then I am insane. So now I'm going to get sued, and I'll probably go to jail to boot.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention - he called the cops on me!!! When shit like this happens, I just want to get these lunatics outta my hair. No amount of money is worth dealing with these scumbags, much less risking getting shot by them. But leaving the scene was hit and run, so I don't have a leg to stand on. Sorry, I had been driving twelve fucking hours only getting out of the cab to put peoples' laundry and groceries in the trunk, and not getting tipped for it, or even getting full fare.
I have never felt such anger in my life as I do right now. I feel absolutely homocidal. I want to kill this man - slowly. I want to spin ice picks into his spine, put a ten penny nail through his skull, cover him in boiling pitch, rip it off, and pour salt on his exposed flesh. I want to cut off his screaming lips and pop out his crying eyes and leave them dangling on his cheeks by the optic nerves. Then I want to start bashing his skull until it cracks, and continue until his brain is liquefied. Finally, I want to piss on his corpse and nails it to the hood of a taxi and drive it through the streets of Winton Terrace, with the words "IN TRIBUTE TO JOHN ARCADY" painted in his blood along the side of the cab.
I hope it was worth a $1.40 to this guy to squash what worthless little bits of life I have left underneath his $100 tennis shoes. May he burn in Hell!
I guess it doesn't matter now. If I don't get fired, then my boss is insane. If I don't quit, then I am insane. So now I'm going to get sued, and I'll probably go to jail to boot.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention - he called the cops on me!!! When shit like this happens, I just want to get these lunatics outta my hair. No amount of money is worth dealing with these scumbags, much less risking getting shot by them. But leaving the scene was hit and run, so I don't have a leg to stand on. Sorry, I had been driving twelve fucking hours only getting out of the cab to put peoples' laundry and groceries in the trunk, and not getting tipped for it, or even getting full fare.
I have never felt such anger in my life as I do right now. I feel absolutely homocidal. I want to kill this man - slowly. I want to spin ice picks into his spine, put a ten penny nail through his skull, cover him in boiling pitch, rip it off, and pour salt on his exposed flesh. I want to cut off his screaming lips and pop out his crying eyes and leave them dangling on his cheeks by the optic nerves. Then I want to start bashing his skull until it cracks, and continue until his brain is liquefied. Finally, I want to piss on his corpse and nails it to the hood of a taxi and drive it through the streets of Winton Terrace, with the words "IN TRIBUTE TO JOHN ARCADY" painted in his blood along the side of the cab.
I hope it was worth a $1.40 to this guy to squash what worthless little bits of life I have left underneath his $100 tennis shoes. May he burn in Hell!