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," grunted 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 just don't see what was so wrong with what I said," the gentleman remarked to his companion. She just glared at him, her eyebrows raised and her lips clenched shut.
"Well, ok, maybe I shouldn't have insulted his intelligence, but he was asking for it."
"Tom, he was just being friendly. He didn't want to ignore me."
"Look, a wave or a casual hello is being friendly. Walking up and giving you a back massage is more than that."
"Oh, don't be such a jealous fool. You know that I still go out with Jim sometimes."
"It's just that I don't understand what you see in him."
She didn't respond but turned to gaze out the window. He just sat there and stared straight ahead.
In the rear view mirror, I could see them both staring blankly. I turned around just in time to notice a red light and avoided having to stop short. When the light turned green and the cab resumed motion, they began speaking again.
"I'm sorry. It's just the way that he acted and the way that he spoke to me. I just find it hard to deal with him."
"I just wish you would be a bit more civil to him. I mean, I like him even if you don't."
"Alright, I'll be better next time."
"Thanks," she rested her head on the window and stayed that way, silent for the remainder of the ride."