On Tuesday I had a fight with a cab driver. It doesn't happen often that I blow my stack but I did in cab 1 B 44. The fare was $10.40, I tossed him $11 and got out of his car and into another open cab I saw across the street.
Karma bit me in the ass.
I had left my iPhone in his cab.
Mutha fucker.
I did what I was supposed to do. With my near-photographic memory I had his medallion number and I called 311. They gave me the number of the garage he rented from. I reported the loss there.
Of course, I never heard back from the garage.
Instead the driver of 1 B 44 found my office number (I had a business card in my phone case) and called me.
Just now I ran out to 39th and 8th and met him. Of course it occurred to me that he was going to shoot me at close range in the face.
But instead, he handed me my phone.
I handed him $80.
Karma's a bitch.
I reckon he wasn't an ass after all. Maybe you were? Even the nicest cab driver can't foresee a sudden traffic jam. Or whatever it was that bugged you at the time. Some people with good insides don't always look nice or know how to talk nice.
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