Best Cab Story EVER!!!!

My friend Tina e-mailed me with her awesomely-awesome taxi story about her experience returning home from 42nd Street to Brooklyn. It may seem long, but it DOES include a cabbie with a bloody nose... so I suggest setting aside some time to read this:

"You will not believe my cabbie story!!

After a harrowing trip to 42nd street yesterday afternoon, my coworker John and I decided to leave together at about 4 pm and split a cab to Brooklyn. He lives in Bayridge. We walked down 42nd towards the FDR and were lucky enough to catch a cab that was going off-duty to Brooklyn. I said I needed to go just over the bridge; John said he just needed to get into Brooklyn.

P.S. John's a bit odd...maybe a bit of a...loose cannon.

So we're driving along and John says he needs to go to Bayridge. The cabbie says "No, I'm going off duty to Coney Island. I have to give this cab to my partner." John says "No, you're not going to leave me 7 miles from my house." They argue and the cabbie points at John and says "You can't change your destination, I am not going to Bayridge!" John says "Don't point your fucking finger at me or I'll break it off!" They keep yelling and John grabs his finger and bends it backwards and says "I'll break your fucking finger off..." blah blah blah ..

The cabbie pushes him off and John fucking PUNCHES THE CABBIE IN THE FACE while we are driving. The guy slams on the brakes and John jumps out and opens my door for me to get out. And I'm like hell no, I don't even fucking know this guy and he just punched dude in the face! So I stay in and he says "fine" and walks away.

The cabbie is sort of shocked and keeps saying "I don't know why he punished me in my face! This never happen to me!!" And I'm sympathizing and explaining I don't really know John and I'm sorry and he's bleeding a little and does he need help. So we're going down the FDR and suddenly the guy's like "I'm out of control! I'm driving but I'm out of control!" Then he's like "What just happened? Where am I? Where are we going? I'm out of control! Out of control!"

(It was at this point I ask her why she didn't get out of the cab.)

"I was on the FDR! I couldn't get out!"

(Okay! Relax. Finish your story.)

"So he calls 911 and tells them what happened, but his English sucks and he's, you know, out of control. He hands the phone to me and asks me to talk to them and i'm just thinking "What the fuck?" We get in the lane to pull off and we're in it for a good 20 minutes, and the whole time he keeps asking where we're going and what happened and if I called 911 yet.

He keeps saying: "I'm driving but out of control! God sees, or else we'd be dead right now! He's driving the car or else we'd be in the water!"

He calls his partner and talks to him in some chadian language that sounds like "Njofhoj jopfjpewk out of control! Jiojwiojio out of control out of control!" Finally he says "Forget it, I'll take you home, your time is important."

Anyway, he takes me somehow to the West Side Highway and somehow through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and leaves me in Red Hook, I have no idea where I am, and I find a guy in a DJ equipment truck who gives us directions to a street I can walk home from. I tell the directions to the driver and he says oh that's too far and I'm so exasperated I just get out and slam the door and start walking.

The DJ equipment guy honks and says he's going that way; he'll drive me. I take the ride since I have no idea where I am, I'm in the middle of warehouses and desolation. So he drives me for like half an hour and he's super nice (Nigel, from Trinidad, two kids) and he dropped me on Atlantic Ave. and I walked the rest of the way, getting home at about 7:30. THEN, John calls me to make sure I got home okay, and I was like uh...yeah. THANKS."

No, thanks to YOU, Tina for relaying your alarming and emotional journey.I really hope that John kid gets what he deserves in life, which is a swift kick in the crotch.