Cab Ride To Marshaltown

It’s nearing 1am, musician comes up, orders a Jack and Coke. It’s about his 4th one. He leans in, says, how late does the cabs run until?

Actually, the band playing is extremely loud, so it’s more like,

HOW LATE DOES THE CABS RUN UNTIL?!?

So know that the conversation following was us yelling at each other, but I don’t feel like capping the whole thing. 

Anyway, I say, I don’t know. Past two I guess. 

He nods, says, past two?

I say, yeah. Where you going?  He says, Marshaltown. I say, yeah. There’s a cab stand on Court. You know where Court is?  He says, no. I say, you go out the door, and…

Wait. DID YOU SAY MARSHALTOWN???

He says, yeah. 

I say, you’re taking a cab to Marshaltown?!?!

He says, yeah. 

But he says it in a way, as if I just asked him if he likes the color red. 

I say, um…how far is Marshaltown?  He says, little over an hour. I say, hell, man, that’s a long cab ride. How much that cost?

He says, probably $120. I’m fortunate, though. It’s not that big of a deal. 

I believe it. He’s been tipping good all night. 

I ask him, the most logical question. 

Did you get a DUI?

He takes a pause. Then overlaps the pause with another pause. Then he says, not exactly. 

He goes into the story how he “didn’t exactly” get a DUI, but it doesn’t matter. 

The point is, the guy’s taking a cab to Marshaltown. And that’s a ridiculous long time to take a cab ride. 

Dude shoulda just flown in. 

-Clint Curtis

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