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 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 mother 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 there's nothing between Jim and me any more."
"Which is exactly why he should keep his hands off of you."
"Sometimes you are just so..." She trailed off and turned to gaze out the window. He just sat there and stared straight ahead.
In the rear view mirror, I could see a tear falling down her cheek. I watched as she wiped her face with the back of her hand. I almost didn't notice the red light and had to stop short. The sudden change in motion made my pasangers jolt forward slightly.
"Sorry 'bout that," I shouted to the back seat. I recieved no answer. Instead they continued their conversation.
"I'm sorry. It's just the way that he acted and the way that he spoke to me. I just can't stand him."
"I just wish you would be a bit more civil to him. I mean, I am still friends with him even if you're not."
"Alright, I'll try to behave better next time."
"Thanks," she rested her head on his shoulder and stayed that way, silent for the remainder of the ride."