Cab Driver

I wish I had taken a picture, but alas…so here’s the story…

In Portland, I was meeting up with the cartoonist, Shannon Wheeler, a guy I’d never met, but with whom I’ve corresponded. I call a cab for me and Laurie (she was going to the Doug Fir to meet up with some other people). The cab driver was this cute, hipster musician type and while we were waiting for Laurie (long story, not worth re-telling) he asked me where I was going. He was worried that I was meeting up with a guy I’d never met in a place I’d never been and it was sweet. Anyway, we talked while he drove me and that was that. Shannon and I had drinks and then S, Laurie and I all went to this terrible party and while there, I get a text message that reads, “Are you a corpse? Cab Driver.” Laurie and I were laughing our asses off that he was calling himself “Cab Driver.” We also realized he must have called dispatch for my number, because I never gave it to him. I texted him back and he came and rescued us. He texted me for the next couple days, signing each text the same way: Cab Driver.


One response

  1. Oh God, this story still makes me laugh. Long live Cab Driver!

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