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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Experience · #1221764
an inresting journy with a cab driver
I sit down and instantly the what was once holding a deck of cards now
becomes an ash tray. I have a weird habit of turning anything into an
ashtray ... beer can old pizza boxes or sometimes I hide them behind
the bed , leaving the mess to the next person to occupy my tiny
studio apartment. anyways Kevin that’s what im talking about a 10 min
encounter and im not sure if its one of those encounters you remember
forever or if its forgotten as son as I sober up.
As im sitting through my second cigarette waiting for my cab I
remember an excellent sweater that would perfectly coordinate with my
current outfit, I wonder where did I leave it? can I reach it in time
before Kevin my cab driver shows up. and if I don’t make it will Kevin
even bother to honk before pulling off thinking that I somehow found
another ride. will he be hurt? I take the risk , but I don’t run ,
I think all large breasted women try to avoid running ,
its just awkward , except those women on baywach for them it works.
I make it back and suck down two more cigarettes to the filter
and flick them into the neighbors potted plant.
I hate Kevin I’ve been out here for like 30 minutes. I go inside and
call the snobby receptionist for kevins cab company.
she assures me only 15 more min before calling me hun like six times
and I hang up. I go out side and decide that instead of sucking down
two more cigarettes back to back ill wait and see how long I can hold
out. I think that maybe this ten min free from cigarettes that
im preventing my self from emphysema and lung cancer, my god and if I
was pregnant. cigaret already in my mouth I reach for my matches and
here comes Kevin. I hate cab drivers but im just glad he’s not black.
when I get in the car I can already tell this whack job thinks that he
has a shot with me, and so the incessant babbling starts "hi im Kevin"
I don’t introduce myself I just nod. Kevin looks 40ish and slightly
balding he was wearing what appeared to be those wire police shades and
was dressed in a slightly mismatched blue sweatsuit. as he droned on
about the weather and how we both live in florida I wonder to myself
could I have sex with Kevin I notice how fat his thighs were and thought
that it was abnormal to see a med build guy with such fat girly thighs.
I wouldn’t have sex with Kevin. I get out of the cab and imeadiatly
light a cigarette.
© Copyright 2007 emilina (emilina at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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