So, there I was, driving that little Yellow Cab. It was early morning and the end of an otherwise fruitless, unremarkable night. Traffic was picking up but it was a good last pull out to the airport. My fare was a young woman of about 22 years of age. With the dawning sun still troubling my eyes, I said goodnight to the smokey-voiced mulatto dispatcher (the one men often asked about) and turned off the Two-Way Radio and tuned in the AM-FM to a morning drive-time News and Talk Radio Show. They were talking about the drafting of women.
Peering through the rearview mirror I asked my fare how she felt about women being drafted into the army.
She replied: “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
I thought to say: “You never had anything in mind at all except what was put there by television” – But I kept my peace.
Upon arrival at the airport, I started unloading the trunk only to get into a verbal tussle and a bit of a tug-o’-war over the lady’s luggage with an angry Redcap who claimed to be “union” and was obviously desperate for tips.