Taxicab Confession

Whether I'm the driver or the passenger, I'm religious about wearing a seat belt. All those Driver's Ed videos from high school (in hi-fi Betamax format) were enough to put the fear of God in me. Images of a body impaled on a telephone pole after being launched from a car, a distorted face blasted through the windshield and frozen in its final breath, a Jedi who had been cut in half by a black knight's light saber.

I am a strong believer in the "Click It or Ticket" mentality. According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, alot of people die in car accidents each year. Furthermore, a large percentage of those alot of people could still be living today if they wore their seat belts. Chilling statistics. Despite being a seat belt nazi, I realized what a hypocrite I am. Because today I called for a cab ride.

The driver promptly showed up and I hopped in the cavernous back seat and that's when it hit me, I never buckle up in taxis. And to highlight the height of hypocrisy, there is no more appropriate time to "Click It" then when you find yourself in a yellow and black checkered vehicle. I try to stay away from sweeping generalizations but taxi drivers are extremely aggressive on the road, and they all smell.

We proceeded out of the parking lot into traffic and I grabbed the "oh shit" handle above the back seat window as the cabbie accelerated into rush hour traffic, switched over four lanes, then slammed on the brakes in disgust when the light turned red. All of these evasive maneuvers transpired over a stretch of approximately 50 yards. I felt like an epileptic break dancer in a bumper car. The back seat strangely began to resemble a coffin. Despite all of this, I was stubborn and firmed my grip, I'm always up for a challenge. It's go time.

The driver anticipated the flow of traffic and jammed the accelerator in perfect synchronicity with the green arrow. Why is he taking this way? What's under this guy's hood? Who wet my pants? I haven't pulled this many G's since Kings Dominion. I'm trying to decipher what they are talking about on NPR but based on our hyperspeed all I hear is a blurb about tighter immigration laws coupled with the wind whistling through the crack in my window. Great, immigration laws. At least it's not a contentious matter for a cab driver. We're cool, right? You're a documented worker and I'm a white male. No problems here. The buzzword "immigration" seems to directly correlate to his speed. Would NPR please stop saying that word. Why are we accelerating through the acceleration?

Oh goodness, a tricky U-turn at a busy light. Through the use of complex breathing techniques which can be mistaken for hyperventilation to the untrained eye, I physically and mentally prepare myself. There's his chance, just a half-mile up, where the light turns red for opposite traffic. Firm grip...check, locked door...check, rock-solid 20 year term life insurance policy for my loved ones...check. My seasoned taxi driver sees another gap which I was unaware of. A gap which measures the approximate length of the car we're in. Sure, we can squeeze in while accelerating to upwards of 40mph in a strip of road that's the size of a suburban driveway. Yeah, no problem. I think I saw this on an episode of "Dukes of Hazzard" where someone was selling moonshine and Boss Hog was eating food. Boss Hog, you slay me.

The cab miraculously fits into the moving target that is our pre-designed space on the road. And no horns! I can see my building now and breathe a sigh of sweaty upper-lip relief. At the very point I begin to drink the Kool-Aid and start to enjoy the ride, we reach the building entrance. I get out knock-kneed and hand the cabbie my voucher, with a cottonmouth voice I manage a crackling "Thank You". The most exciting part of my day speeds away in a yellow and black blur. I'm left nostalgically smelling the fumes of burnt rubber and gas while wafting in a sea of smoke. His driving adventures will continue while my waking hours will consist of staring at my laptop on a morphine drip. Godspeed Mr. Achmed Andretti, you are the most fierce cab driver I never knew.

So remember, always buckle up unless you're in a taxi with a driver speaking Pashto on his cellphone. This has been a public safety announcement.