My Wild Cab Ride by Revitup Man

I woke up the day after Christmas and looked out the window. Boy was it snowing! I'd been visiting friends in the suburbs of Boston for the last three days and I hadn't seen so much snow since I was a little kid growing up in Denver. It was incredibly beautiful, and my christmas with friends had been wonderful, but today I had to catch a train back to New York City so I could be at work the next day. Ugggh!

I went downstairs where a steaming cup of coffee was waiting for me. Mmmmmm. Hazlenut, my favorite.

"I've already called a taxi for you to get to the train. And I called to check on the trains. Both Amtrak and the MBTA are running on schedule." Dennis said. He was such a great host, he could be someone's mother if he wanted. "And here's a bagel with cream cheese for you. Lightly toasted, just the way you like."

I could get used to this, but I was already missing New York, the hustle and bustle, everything happening at warp speed. I'd tried, but never quite understood, how people could live in quiet small towns that the world didn't revolve around.

Beep! Beep! The taxi was out front. I put my coat on, grabbed my bags and went outside. A huge old Chevy station wagon was idling in the street. The windows were a little fogged, so I couldn't see the driver well, but he appeared to be young.

I schlepped my bags to the street and grabbed the handle for the back door of the car. I opened it and leaned into the car with my belongings. Looking forward I noticed that the driver was indeed quite young. Maybe 19 or 20. Short brown hair, tall lanky body. He appeared slightly bored with the whole day, like he'd been driving around on a snowy day for the last ten years.

I closed the door on my bags, waved to Dennis and got in the backseat of the car. "Canton Junction?" he asked.

"Yep. Gotta catch the 10:10 train." I said. It was only 9:30 and about a 15 minute ride, but I didn't want to be late. The next train was after noon. The thought of waiting at the little station for so long was dreadful.

With that we were off. He slid the transmission in drive and with a bored expression eased the car down the street.

The quietness and softness of the snow lulled me into a reverie assuming that we'd be there in no time. A couple of minutes later my neck was nearly yanked out of its socket. "Oh shit!" I heard the driver swear under his breath.

"Are we ok?" I asked.

"Oh. No big deal." He answered. I'll have us out of here momentarily. "You just sit back and relax."

I looked around and realized that the whole left side of the car was stuck in a snowbank. The right side was free, and we still had plenty of time before the train, so I wasn't too worried.

With that, the driver slipped the car in reverse and pressed on the gas. I could hear the wheels spin and the engine rev, but we didn't move. Not even a little bit. So he shifted into drive and did the same. The car moved forward a little, but then stopped. Reverse again. This time a little harder on the gas. Nothing. Then drive. Pretty soon he'd built up a steady routine. Reverse. Drive. Reverse. Drive. Each time pumping the gas, trying to free the car.

I'd started watching out the right side and noticed that each time he did this a huge gush of steamy exhaust would pour out of the tailpipe. After a minute of this, not really getting anywhere, he spoke again, this time with a little bit of worry in his voice. "I'm sorry sir. I'll have you to the train in plenty of time. Don't worry."

I hadn't expressed any concern, as busy as I'd been watching him pump the gas and also watching the exhaust from the tailpipe. With this I started watching him closer. He seemed very nervous, between the intent look on his face and the little droplets of sweat beading up on his forehead. He was really quite attractive. Getting aroused from his stress I began to watch him more closely. Each shift of the transmission made him more nervous. Now he was really pumping the gas in each gear, forcing the engine to rev hard, as if its life were dependant on getting out of this situation.

Finally the car started to move forward, getting free from the snow. Sensing this, my driver stomped on the gas harder than he had before, causing the engine to rev violently. I looked at the speedometer and it was squarely pegged at 85. Then I looked down at his leg, which was incredibly tense, burying the gas pedal into the carpet. The whole car was shimmying from all this, and I realized that I was very excited by the whole situation.

As we continued to inch forward, the car still shimmying from his flooring the gas, and exhaust still pouring out of the tailpipe, I was rock hard.

Finally, to my disappointment, we broke free of the snow drift. Pulling into the train station my driver turned to look at me. "I hope you weren't bothered when we got stuck back there. I try not to worry about it, and it adds excitement to my day, but some of my passengers don't enjoy it much."