Elias turned on his "ON DUTY" light on his cab while at a stoplight. He really wasn't in the mood to start just yet, but with gas prices through the roof, he damn near better start kidnapping a few folks to stuff in for faire. As he waited he watched the sky slowly turned soft shades of purple, pink, and orange, quite a surreal sight for Elias in such a big, bustling city. No one ever pays attention to crap like that but him. "This city's too selfish to think of anything above their own greed."
The green light reflecting on his face he snaps to and continue cruising, keeping focus on the sidewalks loaded with pedestrians wanting to convert momentarily. Approaching the next intersection, his eye catches sight of a yuppie waving frantically in front of the cars, with no awareness to the closeness as well as the speed of the oncoming cars. So, the majority of the natives did the only thing they could do�blow the hell outta their horn complete with chants of "Move it Asshole!" and "You don't have bumpers, Jerk!" Gotta love the city and its hospitality.
Before Elias could even slow down along the curbside, the wayward passenger jerked open the door and plopped down inside.
"Hey! What the hell's the matter with you?" Elias shouted, turning his head to look at the guy. The passenger's head was so far down to the car floor, he wasn't sure the guy had a head. Elias hopped out of the vehicle to get to the passenger side where a guy in a waist apron was standing holding a coat. As Elias approached him, the guy handed it to him.
"Thanks for stopping, he's had a lot. Here's his coat."
"Sure thing, pal," Elias replied, tossing the coat in the back seat. The cars behind him blew to get going, so he hopped back in the car.
"Where to, Sir?"
"Just get me outta here, pal," the muffled voice of the passenger resonated against the seat. Since his collapse, he didn't move an inch.
Elias gritted his teeth. Great. Just great, Elias. Start your shift with an asshole.
"Say there, you wanna close the door before I get rolling?"
"What?"
Okay. Drunk should not equal Deaf, but here goes.
"I said. Close the door before you roll out of my soon-to-be high speeding cab and have a city dump truck pop your head open like a pumpkin."
It took a few seconds, but the passenger mustered all of his super yuppie strength to lean back and slam the door shut. Elias smiled. Ha. He heard that, I bet.
The passenger sat back, without much steadiness to his motions. His body looked of spaghetti and didn't function too different from the dish as well. Long limbs, skinny facial features complete with a long beak of a nose. Elias turned his nose. He was hard to look at when he thought about it.
"So, uh, where to Chump?"
The passenger sneered. "Excuse me?"
"Champ. Where to?" Elias smiled to himself reveling in a joke he alone can enjoy.
The passenger could have sworn this loser said something else, but rather let it go. "To Dunlevy Hotel on Prospect Ave; and put a move on it, will ya?"
Elias looks at him through the rearview mirror and gives a casual smile. The famous smiles he was gifted with through the years of burger slinging. Full of customer service. "I'll do my best, sir."
The passenger peered out the window, muttering indistinctly.
"Did you say something, sir?" Elias turned his attention to stopping at the light, but still peering through the rearview.
The man's reply was an exasperated sigh. "I said, What ever happened to "will do, sir" or, "there in a jiffy?" Now everything's got an excuse." He cocked his head, sneering at him through the rearview.
What?
"Well, I'm simply telling the truth, Sir. I have no control over the road, but I always try to get my customers where they need to be and when they need to be there." Elias took a well-deserved breath and drove at the first sign of traffic moving. This guy is loading TNT onto my last goddamn nerve! Careful with the switch asshole, careful. He glanced into the rearview to check his sides and couldn't help seeing the guy snickering to himself. Elias knew, he knew that he should just ignore it, and not push. Customer harassment won't look good on his record. And besides, the guy is on something. Be it Jack or crack, makes no difference to him.
"What's so funny, Sir?"
The customer stopped laughing. "You, and your kind."
Elias frowned and tried to let that seep in for what it's worth�bull. "Me and my kind, Sir? Care to elaborate, I'm not getting the picture."
"You wouldn't, would you? People like you are stuck. You use every excuse imaginable to keep you from being successful. You hide behind it, staying miserable, envying me for what I work hard for. It's pathetic. Being a loser because you're lazy is repulsive."
Elias slammed on the brakes, sending the unsuspected passenger face first into the bullet-resistant glass. The cab filled with swearing of all sorts; surprisingly none of it was uttered from Elias' mouth.
"Watch your smug face, Sir. There was a messenger guy dodging in front of the cab."
The passenger sat back holding his right eye. "What the hell do you think you're doing?
"Watching out for my people. You know, us miserable losers like to take care of our own." Elias didn't raise his voice. He simply stepped on the gas and swerved into the next lane. The guy shifted and kissed the side window�hard. His spaghetti arms flailing about trying to get his balance to no success.
"Let me out of the car, now!"
Elias swerved into another lane, inches from meeting the rear of a pristine Toyota. The Passenger shut his eyes, praying he get out that damn car. He hustled for a seatbelt or something to give him stability in this demented carnival ride. Between the recklessness and the queasiness building in the lower region of his stomach, it was damn near impossible to focus on the cars they dodged. If he could just focus on a freaking street sign, he'd be fine.
"Let me out of the goddamn car!"
Elias looked back at him through the rearview and showed all of his teeth, as he was the devil himself. Today, things will be different. Today, he said to himself, someone will learn, and it makes no difference to me how.
"You are right, Sir. No more excuses. I'm gonna get you there in a hurry if it kills me." The sudden click of the power locks punctuated the vow, and the passenger pulled at the handle on his side, then shifted to the other. Locked. The passenger's face caved in and faded an awful shade of gray, controlling his breathing.
"Ah, claustrophobia. Being locked in a rolling cage will do that to ya."
"Please, Mister�"
"Oh, so now I'm a Mister. Mister Loser, hmmm. Ain't that some shit! I bet that now you're gonna say something along the lines of, 'I love you people, some of my best friends are losers like you."
Elias ignored the blaring of horns to the left and right of him as he continued to defy the law of physics with his cab. Prospect Ave is well away, but closer than he would be on a calm day.
"Listen, you snobby bastard. You come in here boozed to all hell and have the nerve to be self-righteous and a freakin snoot? I've had diseased hookers give me more respect than you!"
"I'm not drunk! Let me out!"
"If I was to let you out, you'd be amongst the many 'losers' out there surviving. Like the waitresses who break their backs serving your ass business brunch with your cronies.
Scrrrrrr. Another curve.
" Or the garbage men who pick up after you, your snob friends, and every other person around. Would you rather pick up and haul your own shit? Of course not, you can't put it in the trash can much less haul it!"
The passenger flew from one side of the cab to the other.
"You and your kind have less class then a street pimp. It's assholes like you that monger the real workers, the ones in which your cushion was built upon, to make you feel better about being at the bottom of someone else's freakin food chain!"
The passenger frowned. "What? I'm an executive manager, I'm at no one's food chain!"
Elias smiled.
"Everyone answers to somebody. Everybody's got a shark, and I bet you twenty bucks that you just came from a meeting with your shark and told you some bummer news."
The passenger turned his head from the window and stared at him through the rearview. His queasiness rose to a new level. His breathing calmed from the close quarters of the cab, but the conversation was getting way too uneasy. Who the hell is this guy?
"You're talking lunacy, now let me out now and I won't call the cops!"
"Do you have a cell?"
The passenger frantically patted his coat and pockets for his cell phone. What the hell did he do with it? Everything between the meeting and the cab ride was a blur.
"No."
"PHEW, you had me scared there for a minute. Oh well."
"Look," The Passenger scooted up and tried to straighten himself up. "What do you want? An apology? Okay. I apologize, all right. I didn't realize. Now please let me out of the cab, and I'll pay you, and we can just live our lives."
" That sounds fan-freakin-tastic WASP boy, but I don't want a lame ass apology from you! Now like I said, before I was rudely interrupted, you met your shark today. So what happened? Not getting that corner office you were promised? You won't be able to buy that Bentley for junior this year on your salary? Gotta settle for a Mercedes?"
"Who's labeling who, now?" The Passenger gritted his teeth. If he could only find his cell phone, he'll show this guy about labels--like kidnapping and assault label on his record.
Elias shook his head. "I'm not labeling, I'm laughing. I don't envy you; I laugh at you and what you stand for. You think you're the American dream WASP boy? You're a farce. A walking joke. I see guys like you every single day of my life, endlessly burning down the working class, shoveling shit in their face, for doing what you aren't willing to do, ever. We don't have to travel far for an example for you, the peons in your company hold it up, every freakin brick, and yet you look down on them. You are a street pimp. Hustling, just like the rest of us, trying to stay one step ahead of Mr. Shark, using us to make it so, it's pathetic!"
Between the piercing words, the outside blaring of horns and the continuous jolts of the cab, the Passenger reached his pinnacle. His stomach turned inside out and forced his mouth to empty its foul contents. He braced his hands on the glass and bowed down to pay homage to the floorboard.
Elias crinkled his nose at the gurgling, stomach-purging sounds echoing in the back. Touché, you bastard, hit me where it hurts.
"Yeah, it makes me sick too."
The Passenger coughed up the last of it all and sat back. His eyes were watery and blood-shot. Humiliation heated his face and he wanted to die. As bits and pieces of the day started to clump together, his stomach tensed.
"They let me go," He whispered out of his tired, scratchy voice. Hearing it made it as real to him than thinking about it.
Elias barely heard him ;the stench had reached his side and had to roll down the window to keep himself from ralphing at the sour odor. Yep, he definitely had a few.
"Did you hear me, you bastard?" His voice shaking and louder.
Elias looked at him through the rearview. "I heard you."
"I gave my life to that company for twelve years. From starting as a sniffling intern, to becoming a exec. I sacrificed everything for them. Now they kick me to the curb. Bastards."
"I guess you are just like the rest of us. In one day, out the next."
The passenger saw red. "Fuck�you."
"No, WASP boy, fuck yourself. That's what you did anyway. What, I'm supposed to feel sorry for you? It's nothing new. You try seeing people on a daily basis get by and fall flat. People who never gets a break, and actually deserves one, so don't give me a sob story of a yuppie who got the axe and expect me to get a bleeding heart!
"I don't need your damn sympathy! What? Do you hate the rich is that it? Because I can buy and sell you? Don't take your frustrations out---"
"Oh can it. I don't hate the rich, pal. The rich hates themselves so much they don't need any help from us losers. And as far as buying and selling me, buddy, I don't think you can afford me�not since you're unemployed."
"You're a prick. Look, I don't need this. Let me out of this cab, and call us even!"
"We are almost there. No sense in stopping now. Besides, the sooner we get you there, the sooner you can get home."
The Passenger closed his eyes, as to visualize the meaning of the word.
"I won't have a home."
"You have a family?"
" Wife, and a little girl, Samantha. I won't have that for long either," he whispered. "Rebecca will never take me back, what can I do for her?"
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean, asshole is that its over! I have no job! I promise to take care of her and Samantha and this is what I do! I let those bastards get the best of me and can me. Can me?! Over some wet behind the ears schmuck who knows nothing about the trenches of that company! What am I gonna do?
Elias shook his head and sighed. "Dust yourself and get another job."
The Passenger rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm thirty-seven years old. It's difficult when you're older. I was supposed to retire at that job for Christ's sake!"
"Well retire at another company then, and stop making excuses!" Elias pulled to a stop at a light. "You got knocked out the box because of simple politics, get thee the fuck over it and move on! Your wife and little girl doesn't need some yuppie who whines about why he got the boot, they need someone who takes that boot and kicks someone else in the ass with it! They need a survivor, and there's no way you can be a husband or a father without surviving first!"
"You don't know anything about me!"
"That's right. What do I know? I mean I'm just a cab driver aka loser after all. But you know what? I'm okay with that. I know what I'm capable of, and I know how the world works�What do you know?
The Passenger fell silent and while at the light, took a moment to look at the bums, street hustlers, and whores walking amongst the doctors, lawyers, and stockbrokers at sundown. At the end of the day, we are all trying to stay one step ahead of Mr. Shark.
Elias turned the corner in silence and heard the Passenger breathe a sigh of relief when the lights of the Dunlevy Hotel beckoned him in. Elias should have breathed as well; God knows he deserved it. Pulling up into the breezeway into the main entrance, he slowed to a stop.
"Ah, Dunlevy Hotel. Here's the stop." Elias unlocked the doors and watched the guy slowly step out taking a deep breath of air. The guy was supposed to be more at ease getting here, but something didn't seem right. Elias looked at his hands. He's shaking.
The Passenger straightened himself and grabbed his coat and briefcase. Digging into his coat he pulled out his wallet. "What do I owe for the fare?"
Elias eyes widened. "You still wanna pay my ass?"
The Passenger nodded. "Yes. No one gets a free ride, is that how the world works?" He handed him a fifty-dollar bill.
"The fare's only half that." Elias turned loose the bill after seeing it.
"Please take it. It's for the back seat."
Elias turned and looked in the back seat and frowned. Drunk bastard, he just had to purge himself in my cab. "You got a point." Without another thought, he snatched the bill. "Thanks for the business, sir. Have a great night. It's been a great pleasure taking phenominal amounts of shit from you tonight."
The Passenger gave a small smirk. Elias had to look hard to even see it. "Same here." With that, the Passenger turned and walked into the hotel disappearing into the crowd of bellboys, concierges, and guests.
Elias had a peculiar feeling. One he couldn't shake because it usually meant one thing. Why is he here?
The Passenger walked down the hall to his suite. His heart pounded into his throat as he clutched his briefcase. The hallway was quiet, yet he was so focused he managed to hear the whispering hum of the air conditioning system. Reaching the outside of his suite, he sets the briefcase down and unlocks the door. We hate to lose a valuable team member, Kyle , but this is progress.
He shook the thought from his head, grabbed his briefcase and entered the room. Everything of course, clean and neat. Chocolates on the bed, soap on the counter, liquor in cute bottles on the bar. He set the briefcase on the bed and grabbed the chocolate. He brought the candy to his nose and smelled it. Samantha loves chocolates. They don't need some yuppie to whine about getting the boot.
Looking about, he couldn't help but wonder how many chocolates has been laid on this bed, how many times the sheets been changed, how many people took the little soaps and shampoos, How often was the mini bar emptied? How simple and miniscule everything is? Everything goes around. They let me go.
" What will I do now?" He said aloud. Inside he hoped someone would pop up somewhere and give him an answer. As he plopped down on the bed, all he received was silence. Rebecca will not take me back. Home? What home? I won't have a home anymore.
He unclicked each latch of the briefcase and opened it. He sighed at what his eyes lingered on; his hands still shaking. I can do this. Pulling it out he took the safety off. Everything goes around. They will still change these sheets, will still place chocolates, will still restock the bar,� Samantha will grow up�Rebecca� long after�
He pulled back the hammer, and like a switch his breathing quickened. I can do this. He was afraid to close his eyes, afraid to see his little girl, images that want to make him stay. Go.
The banging of the door outside, made him jump out of his skin. Taking a big swallow, he laid the hammer back down.
"Who is it?" His voice cracking and unsure; he didn't even recognize it.
"It's the concierge, Sir. I have something for you."
"I asked not to be disturbed, what's this about!"
"I was told it was of urgent priority, Sir. I'm sorry."
The Passenger took a breath and set the gun back in the briefcase, frantically closing it. "Just a minute, I'm coming." He scooted the briefcase to the side and leaped up to the door to open it.
The Concierge greeted him with a curt smile. "I was told to give this to you, Sir." The Concierge handed him a cell phone. The Passenger dropped his jaw in recognizing that it was his cell phone.
"Thank you." He started to close the phone.
"No! Don't close it , Sir" the Concierge prompted. " There is a held call on there for you."
The Passenger looked puzzled. "Who?"
The Concierge returned the look. "Don't know Sir. The cab driver didn't tell me. He just wanted me to return the phone to you, and don't hang it up."
That asshole cabbie had my phone? The Passenger nodded and thanked the Concierge, who seemed to be thankful of the dismissal from such an odd ordeal. He closed the door and stared at the phone. Pressing the "talk" button, he released the held call and pressed the phone to him.
"Hello?"
"Kyle, Sweetheart, where are you?"
"Rebecca?" His eyes started to sting and water. He couldn't believe it was her.
"Of course. We have been waiting for you, the Cabbie said you left your phone. Are you safe?"
"Yes, baby I'm fine. Just a little detour, but I'll be back."
Rebecca sighed. "Good. Sam and I haven't seen you in a while. Come say 'hi' to your Daddy, Sam."
The Passenger sucked in a breath and wiped a tear away when he heard his daughter's voice.
"Hi Daddy."
"Hi Sweetie, how are you?"
"I'm fine Daddy. Come home, I miss you."
He glanced at the briefcase and blinked back more tears.
"I miss you too Sweetheart."
Rebecca took over the phone. "We both miss you. I don't care where you are, we want you home, alright?
His voice cracked. "Alright."
"Kyle, is everything alright?"
They need a survivor, and there's no way you can be a husband or a father without surviving first!
He wiped his tears and smiled into the phone. "Yes, Becky. Everything's alright. I'll see you in a few. I love you."
"We love you, too. Bye." And with a small click, the call ended. Plopping on the bed, the Passenger wept silently. Wept for the failure he was, he wept for the world he lived in, wept for the weakness that almost took his life, wept for the joy of his family, and for the voice of his daughter.
Elias slammed on the brakes at a messenger who got too up close and personal with his cab. Gees, can I get through one night, not trying to kill a cyclist!
After recovering his run-in with the bike boy, his eyes focused on a woman waving him over on the sidewalk. He smiled. Looks normal enough. Elias pulled up to her feet and stopped. He saw her a lot clearer even in the darkness of the city street. Her older features were counterparted with her long shapely legs and buxom torso. Her reddish hair was swept up elegantly. Elias had to be careful not the drool at the M.I.L.F. She scooted in and closed the door securely.
"Can you take me to Del Maude's? It's a restaurant on Mid Avenue."
"Yes Ma'am, anywhere you wanna go."
She looked at her watch five times in three seconds, then refreshed her lipstick. Elias glanced into the rearview, watching just enough not to be a freak. However, he found himself turn red when her eyes met him. Shit�Busted.
She smiled and focused at him through the mirror.
"Are you in the habit of talking to strangers?"
Odd question. "Um, Yeah. My job kinda revolves around that little task."
She scooted up. "Can I ask you a question on something?"
"Sure. Ask me anything," he replied inquisitively. I'm just full of tips tonight.
***
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