It was about 12:15 on a warm Thursday night in August. I drove my cab down the street, humming to the tune on the radio as I aproached my detination.
By the time I reached the Sheriton, it had started raining. The windshield wipers slid back and forth in front of my face as the door opened and two passangers climbed in.
"236 Spruce Street please," said the gentleman.
"Sure thing buddy." I spat out my usual reply as I began driving and listening to the conversation unfolding in the back seat.
"I have to tell you Laura, Jim really can rub me the wrong way," the gentleman remarked to his companion.
"He was just being friendly Tom. He didn't want to ignore me."
"To me, a wave or a casual hello is being friendly. Walking up and giving somebody a back massage is an attempt to be more than friendly."
"Maybe so, but nothing more would ever happen."
"Yes, I know that there isn't anthing between you two any more."
"Absolutely. You are so understanding," she smiled as she gave him a big hug. He returned the gesture.
In the rear view mirror, I could see the two of them ebrace. As the cab slowly came to a stop at a red light, they separated.
"I'm sorry if I was somewhat rude to your friend. It's just that he acted that way and he spoke like that. I just find it hard to deal with him."
"I'll try to talk to him about it. Maybe I can get him to be a bit friendlier to you."
"Alright, and I'll try to behave better next time too."
"Thank you," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder. They stayed cuddled that way, silent, for the remainder of the ride."