Taxi Driver

A wannabe Travis Bick­le in a green-col­ored van-taxi tried to kill me on my ride home from work today. It tried to squeeze me off of the road three times, the last time it cut me off, slammed on its brakes, and went up on the curb. Apart from bless­ing him with a few choice words and the ubiq­ui­tous hand bene­dic­tion, and there­by amus­ing the hell out of a car­ful of peo­ple in the oth­er lane, there was­n’t much I could do. I was too busy try­ing not to crash to get the num­ber of the cab, or even the cab com­pa­ny’s name. So if you know which cab com­pa­ny dri­ves for­est green vehi­cles, let me know. I’d like to give their man­age­ment a piece of my mind too, since they almost got a lot more than a pound of my flesh.