Monday, May 5, 2014

05/03/14

I worked brunch today.  It’s been a rough week, but the time has come to have a talk with my best friend.  One on one.  So grab yourself a drink and let’s sit outside so I can explain to you how it made me feel…for realz.  And yea, there were tears and real words and apologies and tough love talk and finally, in the end, a hug.  

But this isn’t a story of that, because well, you know I share a lot, but sometimes you just have to keep that inside…this is a story of what happened to both of us after we hugged.  After we had worked things out.  After we had shared a moment in life that made us both understand that we still love each other.  

This is a story of that time when a cab driver pulled up to the curb right in front of where we were standing outside of the restaurant.  That part isn’t odd, because it’s a restaurant and a ton of people get dropped off at the front door.  The “odd” part was…careful, there are a lot of swear words and inappropriate connotations that will now happen, so if you have issues with that STOP READING THIS!  Right MEOW!!  …the driver of said taxi cab (Yellow Cab:  http://www.maineyellowcab.com/home.html) rolled down the passenger side window and yelled out to us, “Hey ladies!”.  We both looked over assuming he was going to ask us a question…maybe he’s lost?  Maybe he needs to know if said restaurant is still serving food?  Maybe.  But nope.  Here is what he said:  “Ladies!  So, this guy (points to the passenger), it’s his birthday today and I told him I would find him some nice girls for his birthday!”  My best friend, being who she is responds immediately with, “Well, too bad for him.  We’re not nice.”  Meanwhile, Amber has immediately been thrust into the ear ringing, adrenaline pumping, red rage and stands there staring…dumbfounded.  He laughs and says, “All the better!  Come on!  It’s his birthday!!”  Of course the passenger and his two friends in the back laugh and clap…so, I say, “Drive on.  Now.”  He doesn’t and proceeds to say, “WHAT?!  What’s wrong with you?  Just get in.  Have some fun!”  
And that is when I slowly walk to the cab trying desperately to set it on fire with my mind.  My first thought is, well, I do have this lit cigarette in my hand and I could very easily just toss it into the cab…hopefully right onto someone’s lap…so it would burn…through…his pants…his crotch…because obviously this guy should not be allowed to own his man parts.  Instead I lean over into the window, real close to “birthday boy” and say in the tone my mum uses the statement “I’m very disappointed in you”, “Drive on now before it gets ugly.  You’re on dangerous ground right now.”  The driver laughs and says to me, “Ooooooo!  Do that again!  Your angry face is f*cking hot!”  WHAT??!!  
“Drive NOW.”  
“Oh, baby!  Yea!  Do it again!!!”  
“Right.”  I pull out my phone and record the phone number to Yellow Cab (207-518-3563) and calmly ask him his name.
“Why you need my name?  You gonna call me?  Just get in!”
“Name.  Now.”
“John.  HAHAHAHAHA!  It’s John you miserable c*nt”  Good luck with being awful to everyone in your life.  I’m sure it’ll get you far in life, b*tch.”

…So.  Yea.  You guys know me well enough that with those words spewing out of his mouth I wanted to rip the roof off the cab, grab him by the throat and hurl him into oncoming traffic…unfortunately, I have not perfected my superpowers (yet).  He drove.  This is also why I am not allowed to own any form of firearm, because I would have taken care of this leech on society.  Instead I said, “F*ck you, you misogynistic pig.”

That’s when I dialed the number for the cab company in order to file a complaint, because that’s what adults do!  In my younger days I prolly would have chased after the cab punched it and/or kicked it resulting in only hurting myself in the process…so, I make a phone call.  

“Yellow Cab.”
“Hi, I would like to file a formal complaint against one of your drivers please.”  …see??  All nice and professional!
“Sure!  Hold on a minute, let me get a pen.  Can you tell me his name?”
“Yes, John.”
“Oh!  John!  Yes, I know him!  Can you give me the fleet number and license plate number?”
“No, unfortunately I can’t, but he’s heading towards St. John street on Congress with 3 male passengers.”
“Hmmmm…well if you don’t have a taxi number or plate number there isn’t much I can do.”
“Uhm.  Ok.  I would still like to file the complaint.”
“OH!  SURE!  Tell me what happened! …and why you’re so angry!”

As a side note, this should have been the first hint that something was off…well that and the fact that the “dispatcher” sounded oddly like the cab driver.  

So, I proceed to tell him the story.

“Oh, that’s a very good story!  No wonder you’re so upset!  Because you’re a miserable bitch and you want to make everyone around you just as miserable so you can make yourself feel better.  You skinny whore.  No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend!  You know I would date you, but I don’t like skinny ass c*nts!  You know what you should do??  You should drive to the grocery store right now.  No seriously, right now and buy a zucchini because that’s the only way you’re ever gonna get any!”

“Okay.  Wow.  I need your name now, I guess.”

“F*ck off c*nt.  Go to the store.  Get a zucchini and make sure it’s the smallest one you can find, because your p*ssy is small.”

NOTE:  I almost started laughing because a. The situation was too ridiculous to be happening and b. Uhmmmmm…wait…isn’t that a good thing?!  ANYWAY…

“Alright.  I just want you to know that I will make sure everyone I know is privy to this situation and not to use Yellow Cab ever.”

“Ok whore.  Wait.  You have a television show??  What are you a rich white b*tch with connections?!  How are you going to do that??  Yellow Cab is EVERYWHERE!  We’re viral c*nt!  You can’t do anything about this!!  Go f*ck yourself with that zucchini!!”

“And now I am going to call the police on you.  Thank you.”

“Yea.  Go call the cops b*tch!  You can’t do anything about this you angry, miserable b*tch!!”

[CLICK]
…dial cops.
The rest of the story is rather uneventful.  I ran inside to let my boss know what happened and that the cops were going to show up, but that I would ask them to pull around the corner to speak with them because, hey, it’s his restaurant.  I spoke with the police and they said they would try and find this guy and “give him a talkin’ to”…whatever that means.


So this is me filing my formal complaint against Yellow Cab.  You can share this with everyone.  Please.  No one needs this scumbag driving around.  And yes, I do remember what you look like, so you should proceed with caution because I will now make sure I have mace on me at all times.