The Cab Driver From Hell

As I entered the cab I knew that something wasn’t right,
The fog ensnared the headlights on that cold, winter night.
The driver sized me up and down with a suspicious look,
As horror seized my very soul and so from fright I shook.

Conversation not his forte and so silence ensued,
Just once his door did creak ajar he gave a gruff ‘where to?’.
And if this cab ride would end well, somehow I did doubt,
But I did fear for my life at trying to get out.

Concentrating on the face of my frightening escort,
Should I ever make it out alive to file a report.
But as we sailed through soupy skies suspicion was increased,
His features morphed from that of man to skeleton to beast.

Through rutted streets and potholed turns, the ride was getting gnarly.
I searched for his driver’s I.D. but it read only ‘Charlie’.
It occurred to me where we headed I did not know,
But only that Manhattan’s lights had faded long ago.

But rather than protest now I thought I’d simply wait,
If only to prolong the meeting of my ugly fate.
And so it did cross my mind to help my situation,
Perhaps he’d see me as a friend if I made conversation.

Although not easy to find words I thought I’d take a stab,
And ask him ’bout intriguing people he drove in his cab.
He greets me with an icy stare to make the heavens freeze,
But mutters on about Virgil, Dante and Hercules.

And it was at that point I knew the end was guaranteed,
So I lost all composure and for dear life I did plead.
But it was all for naught as I came to the realization,
That we’d already come upon our eerie destination.

So I fell down on my knees and up to him I cried,
“I will do anything if you don’t leave me here to die,
In this godforsaken place I beg and scream for mercy!”
And fell upon the sign that says ‘Welcome to New Jersey’.


60 thoughts on “The Cab Driver From Hell

  1. HA! So good! I live about 5 mins from entering NJ – I totally agree with you. It’s tragically horrid. And the people are really bad drivers…you nailed it again!

    • Thanks! I thought I would spend my day having to make disclaimers about why N.J. really wasn’t that bad. This is the first comment I’m reading so let’s hope this keeps up and I am incorrect!!

  2. That was fantastic! I remember having to go on business trips to Newark, while most of my peers were sent to Tampa. I got the short stick .

    • Aha!! A first! Like I said above, I thought I would be having to spend my day making disclaimers to New Jerseyites and so far you’re the first. Are you from there? Can’t remember. Anyway, obviously this is just a humorous take on the whole NY/NJ friendly rivalry and wasn’t meant to offend anyone.

  3. Hello Marissa

    You were selected as the winner of my Metallica book giveaway. Please reply to my email to arrange shipping if the book. Thanks for participating and following me.

  4. Bwaaahaaahaa! That’s hilarious! I HATE, DESPISE, LOATHE cabs! When I was a kid and lived with my grandparents, Grandma didn’t drive. So we either walked, took a bus, or took a cab most everywhere, and I was always SO embarrassed! To this day, when I see one, I can still smell the insides, and they make me cringe. LOL!

  5. I’ve been to Jersey once, and I was positive that I was going to die then and there. We rarely take cabs in NC, but the last one I was in was laden with night-before vomit. The cabbie didn’t seem to notice.

  6. Oh, my! This one is quite good! Have to agree on NJ….can’t imagine getting a cab there…..very scary thought! Though….perhaps not as scary as driving through there myself?

      • Some day, you really are going to have to give me your story….New York, California, the whole timeline.

The Blood Trail Starts Here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s