I like how the rules are different when you’re in the back of a cab
Or used to be. big vinyl bench, roll windows, simple contraptions for simple purposes:
Sending change between zones; seatbelts: an ornament if they’re even there at all. Ashtrays!!
It’s a time capsule you pay for by the mile (or by the minute if your naïveté is showing), and it’s just one of those subtle underlying themes that abound in every day life I’m convinced you are only attuned to as a child
I hate the screen grafted in them today; like a gaudy pacifier letting me know what society thinks of me: put some ads in front of this schmuck and he’ll be satisfied
I want to be back in the era of magical thinking:
Every cabbie’s a stunt driver,
Nonprofits only did good,
Knowing and feeling weren’t the same thing
