THE SCENE: a yellow cab leaving La Guardia
THE PEOPLE: one deaf cab driver; Sean, Ray, and Me (all awake since 4am and all a little punchy)
Deaf Cab Driver: WHERE YOU WANNA GO?
Us: 72nd and West End.
Deaf Cab Driver: WHA?
Us: 72ND AND WEST END.
Taxi procedes. Sean, Ray, and I engage in intellectual conversation in the back seat.
Deaf Cab Driver: YOU FROM ROCHESTER?
Us: No, from here.
Deaf Cab Driver: WHA?
Us: FROM HERE!
High quality verbal interaction in the back now shifts to what imaginary non-fatal disease would be the most difficult to endure in the long term. As we pull up to the Tri-borough toll booths we determine that chronic flatulence would be the most inconvenient.
Sean: It would definitely put a crimp in your social life.
Me: Can you imagine?�. �Honey, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But, I have to be honest with you about something, I��
Deaf Cab Driver: I GOT EZ-PASS!
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