Taxi driver. . . .

I wake up a little late for work - just a little, but I decide to take a cab anyways. I realize I made it sound like this is an anomaly, but despite actually living a nice (and often refreshing) 10-15 minute walk from work, I take cabs maybe 30-40% of the time. Today's taxi driver was a little different, and before I tell the story I must say I was in a good mood this morning - I got a good night sleep; I set my alarm for 7:00 and hit the snooze for ten minute intervals until 8:30; and, for the latter half of that 90 minutes, I finally watched the end of Barry Lyndon, which I will discuss briefly. So, the taxi driver picks me up. I tell him where I am going (like 1.3 miles away), he starts driving. When I am passing the Four winds bar and grill on my right, I notice he did not turn the meter on. I say, "hey, you didn't turn the meter on, you might want to do that. . . " He says "oops! I forgot" (He has a middle-eastern accent) In any case, he doesn't turn it on. This confuses me. He drives to the lights at Atlantic. As he turns the corner, he says, "What do you usually pay like six bucks?" I find this question annoying since I told him to turn the meter on and he didn't, so I say "I don't know, guy. That's why I told you to turn the meter on three blocks ago." I say it in a normal voice with a hint of annoyance. He doesn't really say anyting after that. "Next left?" he says. "Yeah." He goes to drop me off and I give him two bucks. I say, "You didn't turn the meter on so I'll give you two bucks for a tip." Then I go for the door and it won't open, even though the lock seems to be up. "Fuck!," says my inner monolouge. He is like, "What is this, two dollars? What's going on?" I am like, "Dude, I told you to turn the meter on and you didn't. I am giving you the tip only." Now I want to get out, but the door won't open, and this guy seems semi-harmless, then he starts tweaking: "Two fucking, man! Are you fucking serious. What the fuck, man!?" He opens his door, gets out of the driver seat, pounds on his roof and is like, in english that is all fucked up - (and it was fucked up because I think he was genuinely pissed but couldn't express how pissed he was in the english language, which, in turn, made him more pissed) "You have to fucking be keeding me, wtf? Are you fucking serious wtf?" At this point, let's realize he is being penalized by me for not turning on the meter. I do know what a taxi cost me to get to work. Maybe he has even been my taxi driver in the past - it is $4.35, and I give $6.00 total. All taxi drivers have turned on the meter in the past. More importantly, he was saying all that towards me through the windshield of the door I couldn't open. I say to him after his verbal assault, "Are you going to hit me or something? Why is my door locked?" He takes a respite from his frustation, as though that were a serious allegation against him as a driver," What do you mean??? That is not locked! Pull it up!" This is where I felt like a melvin sort of. The lock on the cab (Ford Taurus style) was only pulled up about 5/6th of the way. I pulled it up further and as soon as it budged, I bolted for the opposite door and got out. He jumps back in the cab. I would estimate 10 people were within earshot of the following verbal assault (in semi-broken english) "You fucker. You fucken cock SUCKAH! You fucken THIEF! FUCK you, you FUCKEN DICKHED! etc. . . . " All comments were said by a cab driver who wanted to make four extra bucks and probably would have murdered me over those four bucks if it weren't in the middle of the financial district in the morning. Since he was yelling all this at me, and I try to amuse myself in situations where I am made to look like a criminal by taxi drivers who I usually tip well if they are honest, I looked at him after ten seconds of him following me down the sidewalk with his window open, and said "take it easy, psycho." Not in the Adam Sandler way, but just as a stern last few words, and to divert any attention around me that might them think I actually was a thief. . . .So, I go into work, tell my boss, who I had imagined would have done the same as me, for he is very sensitive and a lot more argumentative than me (I rarely get into arguments, as most people know), and he is more passionate about the little things that I usually don't care about. His first response was "Wow, you took a cab here? Why? You must live some exquisite lifestyle I don't know about. . . ." Then he said, "So, it usually costs you six bucks, why didn't you just give him six bucks?" I was like, "it's the PRINCIPLE! Like, what if I asked for a receipt?" He still looked at me like I was an idiot. I don't know. . . .comments?

Part 2: Barry Lyndon. I talked about this movie with Seth, and he noted the theatrical aspect of the movie. This was when I had just passed intermission. In any case my favorite lines after intemission both come from the narrator:

"Lady Lyndon was soon destined to occupy a place in Barry's life - not much more important than the elegant carpets and pictures - which would form the pleasnat background of his existance. . . "

the other one, which I can't find right now, had to with the fact that Barry's rise to wealth could be attributed to the same traits that would eventually lead to his downfall. Seems standard to me fro some reason. . .

As for the epilouge, maybe seth will comment on that. . . .