Gypsie Cab Hatin

Not to many times have I legitimately feared my for my life. I grew up in some hick town where the biggest threat was your dog getting run over.



In a recent trip to NYC, this all changed. First off, I witnessed a Korean get killed by a cab driver, while walking out piss drunk of a McDonald's in Manhattan. The next day, I took the Long Island Railroad (LIRR) via Ronkonkoma to visit the law school I’m attending this year. When I got off the train, I needed to either take the bus or a cab to the school. As soon as I took one step onto the station, I was damn near bum rushed by some cab driver (gypsy cab driver I should say). He was either Haitian (fitting, hate hate hate) or Dominican or something.
Regardless, I got in his cab and told him the coordinates, only for him to get out of his car and run up and act like he was going to smack the shit out of this dude. He came down from on top of the dude, like he was trying to spike a volleyball, but stopped short a few inches from his face.
At first, I thought it was some type of banter between these two people who I thought at first were friends…. I thought this for about four seconds, right before the screaming started. They were in each others faces like Lou Pinella and an umpire yelling about a bad call.

So now I'm sitting in this Haitians cab, thinking this is going to be my last memory before I’m shot to death, when he runs back into his cab like his is gonna grab his gun and shoot this guy. Lucky he opted to just take me to the law school. Or so I thought.

Then he ends up pulling right next to the guy in the cab he was in and finished up verbally accosting him.

At this point I can’t shit my pants any more because there is literally nothing left in me, when he tells me the story:

Apparently, this guy gave him a ride down to Atlantic City, for $120, because the guy “Has a fucking gambling problem, man.” And through is broken Haitian Voodoo talk I gathered that somewhere in the journey, when he went to pay a toll or some garbage, he took a stack of money from him, so my gypsy cabbie left him out on the turnpike in the middle of Jersey. Oh well, at least he had $120 to pay for another cab.

Now that’s a first degree hate.