Last night on my way home from work, I boarded the first taxi going my route thanks to impending rain. Now normally, I stand and wait. I board the cleanest or even newest taxi – I love comfort and convenience.
The first mistake I made last night was sitting next to the driver. The hopefully straight chap kept caressing my thigh with each gear change (f**king manual transmissions.) It was extremely uncomfortable I wanted to detach my thigh and hand it to him. But well, those are the known consequences of that seat.
Then, the 30 minutes’ drive (thanks to traffic jam) felt like I went back to my high school, sneaked into the dormitory, stole a metallic bed, took it to a garage, put wheels on it, sat on the damn thing and rode it to my house. In brief, his taxi had no shock absorbers or even a trace of them.
In fact, the shocks were so bad it was as if he didn’t have shock absorbers and his no shock absorbers didn’t have shock absorbers and those ones too didn’t have shock absorbers. It was excruciatingly uncomfortable and the could be not straight chap was driving like alcohol drunk him and now the alcohol was driving us home i.e. the alcohol was drunk driving.
The bumps and potholes were so much felt, I wanted to travel back in time and strangle the first descendant in the lineage from Cain and Abel that resulted into the birth of this taxi’s owner.
And just when I thought that was the worst that could happen, cops stopped us and the taxi driver decided this was the time to stretch his legs. The bastard abandoned us in the taxi and headed for the nearest bush. Turning to the conductor, he was right behind him.
*deposits on the M3*