The Cab

Let's say you and I are both standing on the side of the street of a bustling city. We are both hoping to hail a taxi and get where we're going. The sun went down half an hour ago; the Christmas lights are twinkling, the air has a decided nip, and the scents of city mix with the hot fragrant aroma of spiced cider being sold from a street vendor. It's a night that has that magical, indefinable quality to it, and you and I strike up a conversation, starting out with the obligatory " Must be a shortage on cabs."

We have the same sense of humor, you and I, and I can tell that there's some sort of chemistry sparking between us. The conversation is easy. And you have a VERY cute smile. I tell you about a band I saw in the Pavilion; and you can't believe it! You were at the same concert! They just happen to be your favorite band. Mine too.

At long last we spy a cab. You hold your arm up, and it chugs over to the curb.

"You take it," you say. "I'll wait for the next one."

I have to make up my mind about whether I'm going to play the shy card or not. Nope.

"Why don't we share?" I suggest.

You smile, and I notice that your left front tooth is just slightly crooked. I like it. You hold open the door for me, and then slide in next to me, pulling the door closed. It's very cozy in here. And your aftershave or cologne or whatever you've got going on is definitely working for me.

The cabbie, let's call him Joe, looks at us from the rear view mirror. "Where ya headed?"

"Uptown," I say.

"Downtown," you say at the same time.

Now I feel foolish for suggesting that we share a ride. I didn't even ask if you were going the same way! Darn that smile!

"Look," you say, leaning towards me, " Is there any chance you'd want to come hang out with me for a little while? I know we just met, but I would love to get to know you a little better. I'm on my way to meet some friends at this great bar. I know the guys who will be playing there tonight, and they're actually not that bad!"

Oh. I really don't do the bar scene anymore. But you are so cute! And the company would be nice. Still, I do have to get up early.

"I'm sorry. It sounds like fun, but..I have to work in the morning." I'm hoping you'll ask me for my number, because I really do like talking to you.

"Go in hungover,"you say. "I do it all the time." You smile, but it's a little less cute.

"Sorry."

"Folks?" Joe is getting impatient.

You give me a reluctant grin as you reach for the door. I can tell that you'd hoped I'd be a little more daring. I used to be. I found out it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. And I wouldn't be hungover even if I did go out with you. It seems you're a bit of a party boy, and as cute and as sweet as you are, that's not what I'm looking for.

"Guess we're not going the same way," you tell Joe as you slide out. You give me one last smile, and we go our separate ways.