Last night, I got into a cab with a cab driver who was clearly so intoxicated. What alarmed me the most, though, was not how he swerved from lane to lane regardless of whether or not another car was next to him. Not how he giggled and snorted so loudly on his cell phone headset. Not how he almost ran over a pedestrian, who then chased us a block. What surprised me the most is that I was too lazy to get out of the cab and get another one. I honestly am not even sure if I buckled up. He might've even fallen asleep on the stretch from Union Square to SoHo, I had no idea. I just sipped on my Fanta and yawned like a baby lamb and I also gave him a sizable tip even though my eyes watered from his gin-soaked "Have nice night, lady." I apparently can't be bothered to save my own life.
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