Cab Ride

In the late 1970s, I took a cab ride I hope I never forget. This took place roughly in the middle of my drinking career. When I drank heavily then, I used to tell people that I was going on what I called “one of my little tours.” That particular night, I took a cab company that I usually didn’t take. After hitting many of the local clubs, I noticed that the driver started taking a route I wasn’t familiar with. I asked him about it and he said we’d get where we were going faster this way, but the next thing I knew, he had pulled into a field somewhere. He pulled open my door and another man came out of the shadows with a pistol. He said: “Give me your money!” To which I replied: “No!” He waved the gun at me and said it was a real gun, but I wasn’t dissuaded. “No,” I said, “you can’t have my money.”