Grant Blank had just picked up his luggage from the carousel when he saw the man smiling at him from behind cheap sunglasses, under a tuft of unkempt brown hair that was greying at the temples.
“You lookin’ for a cab?”
“Uh…” said Blank. “Yeah…”
He was indeed looking for a cab, but as friendly as this man was, Grant seemed to remember he’d heard somewhere that you should never to accept a ride from a cabbie inside the terminal.
“Where you headed? I’ll take you,” said the man, beginning to walk away before Grant could actually answer the questions. Grant felt a bit wary; it all seemed too easy and too suspicious, but he was tired and just wanted to get to his hotel. The man LOOKED like cabbie, and when Grant watch himed head towards the automatic glass doors under a sign that read TAXI, it seemed legit.
Grant picked up speed to keep up with the briskly walking man. “I’m over this way,” said the cabbie, and Grant followed him along the line of parked taxis waiting for fares. But when they passed the first cab in the line, Grant grew apprehensive. “Are you supposed to grab customers right out of the terminal?” he asked.
“Listen, if I lived by the rules around here I’d never make a living,” replied the man, leading him to a green dumpster with the word “CAB” written on it in spray paint. As he climbed the rungs on it to lift the lid, Grant felt he had to protest. “Okay, whoa. What is this?”
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“Do we feed?” rasped a voice from inside the dumpster.
“Not yet, my master” said the man, with a bit of trepidation. “I’m sorry.”
“Boo,” growled the voice impatiently. “Methinks eating you instead.”
“But then who would sing you to sleep?” stammered the man.
“Touche,” said the dumpster voice.
