The car air fresher was "new car scent," and the Lincoln Towncar's golden sheen was complimented by the scent of shampoo and nicotine. A pack of Marlboro Lights was wedged between visor and roof. Joe, the taxi driver, runs through a fresh red light. "You thought about stopping Joe," I say to his amusement. "That counts for something."
"Screw it," chuckles Joe as he abruptly accelerates, causing the rear end of the Towncar to loose traction temporarily under the thunderous V-8 engine. "Cleveland ain't New York or Chicago," Joe responds to a question never asked. "It's not a cab city." Small hairs grow atop his nose and the machine begins accelerating past fields of gravel with leeward snow. "When I quit giving a shit is when I started making money." Despite high speed cornering, Joe's glasses never move from the dashboard.
Joe's beard is snow white, his balding head covered by a lightly seated mesh hat and his cough raspy. He runs another red light, this time tracing behind a woman crossing the street; her short red skirt beneath a black jacket and white tights beneath everything. "Looks nice and warm up there," Joe chuckles. "Hey what! I'm a cabbie."
The cab looks very un-cab-like, except small font letters written on the driver and passenger doors reading Ace Executive. Joe drops Eric and I off at Kinkos. "Catch you on the flip flop," Joe muses before speeding off on salted road.
"Screw it," chuckles Joe as he abruptly accelerates, causing the rear end of the Towncar to loose traction temporarily under the thunderous V-8 engine. "Cleveland ain't New York or Chicago," Joe responds to a question never asked. "It's not a cab city." Small hairs grow atop his nose and the machine begins accelerating past fields of gravel with leeward snow. "When I quit giving a shit is when I started making money." Despite high speed cornering, Joe's glasses never move from the dashboard.
Joe's beard is snow white, his balding head covered by a lightly seated mesh hat and his cough raspy. He runs another red light, this time tracing behind a woman crossing the street; her short red skirt beneath a black jacket and white tights beneath everything. "Looks nice and warm up there," Joe chuckles. "Hey what! I'm a cabbie."
The cab looks very un-cab-like, except small font letters written on the driver and passenger doors reading Ace Executive. Joe drops Eric and I off at Kinkos. "Catch you on the flip flop," Joe muses before speeding off on salted road.
Comments