Outside of Washington, DC, cabbies can be a lot of fun. The guy today had a partial cage around him... hmm. If they are not playing musica latina, it´s probably from the 80s. Last night on the way to the disco, we listened to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
"Yo amo Cindy Lauper!" says the jovial fellow.
"Por que no?" I replied. I mean who doesn´t, really. Perhaps its just so refreshing to have a break from the lovely local DC Arabic radio station´s Koran readings coupled with the edge of your seat excitement of a NYC cab ride.
If we could rewind about 48 hours, I´d like to begin on my new political issue up for debate, since the restaurant smoking ban idea took off so well (California - 1993). They weigh your baggage at the airport, right? And if it´s overweight, they charge you extra. They measure you at Disneyland for height requirements. There is a posted weight limit in all American elevators. WHY DO I HAVE TO SUFFER A 6 HOUR FLIGHT PRESSED AGAINST MY WINDOW BY [XXL] PEOPLE!?! OK, don´t get me wrong; I make my living serving food to these types. Do you know how many tapas I can sell to some 300 pound tourist? However they do always keep me running for - of all things - Diet Coke refills. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah... 26 inches; if your body width exceeds the alloted 26 inches of space designated for your personal space in an economy-class airplane seat, you need to A) buy an extra seat, B) fly business class or first class, or C) make alternate travel plans. I´ll see if my brother can take that to the Hill when I get back. For now, I´ll just write to Hillary to see if socialized travel is on the platform; then at least, I can save the money for a massage.
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