<=Goddamn Ticos Ever been with a cab driver who didn't know where the fuck he was going? The kind you know you could navigate through the city better than even though you've never driven in your life? I've met plenty of those, enough to create a composite scenario of what it is like, in case you've never experienced it before.
It's bright and sunny, and everything's been going your way until you get a call from a friend. He asks you, "Hey, come over to my place! I've got beer and video games--shit your parents don't let you have! lol!" Angered by this open statement of pretension, you decide it's time for a killin', so you get dressed, grab your favorite hunting knife, and head out the door.
You stand on the sidewalk, waiting for a cab. It's about mid-day, so there's a lot of cabs going about, but most of them are filled. After about five minutes you hail a vacant cab.
You approach the cab casually, you tell the driver where you're headed. You barter for a moment and reach an agreement. You take the fact that he bartered as a hint that the driver knows where to go. But before you open that door, you realize something's not right.
Maybe it's the smell--the air. It could be just the mold growing inside the cab, maybe...
Maybe it's the smell of deception--a cabby's lie--a putrid, tortured air of a thousand mistreated fares that reaches out to you and says, "No, Kyu! Don't go in! It's not worth it! The driver's lying to you! He couldn't find your friend's house if he crashed into it with his Tico!"
Thinking yourself so clever, you reply, "Silly putrid, tortured air of a thousand mistreated fares. Of course he couldn't find the house if he crashed into it in a Tico--he'd be dead! rofls!"
So you get in...
TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*cough*cough*
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