The Fare (Shaera)

“Here ya go Phil, 389. Somebody puked in it this morning.” Louie said handing the clipboard to Phil through the slot at the bottom of the “cage”.

“Thanks asshole.”

“No problem you two deserve each other.”

Phil walked past the dispatch window and around the corner to the “pen”. Flipping through the dispatches Phil caught up with everything the discerning cabbie needed to know about the happenings around the city.

“Hey Phil which did Louie give yeah?” Salome asked from the ratty recliner.

“389.”

“Ohhh, sorry.”

“Yeah its cool, he told me”

“It should be cleaned up by now.”

“Should be, but you know those cabs hold smells like pro’s hold onto johns.” Phil replied knowing that Salome was know to turn a trick or two in her spare time.

“Hey.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” He added grinning as he left to go pick up his cab in the garage.

“Heads up Philbo.”

Just as he looked up a set of keys hit Phil in the chest. Snatching them he replied “Thanks Latka.”

Phil found his car for the day over by the double doors that lead out into the city.

Jamming the keys into the ignition he turned her over, flipped the abused Buick into gear and backed through the portal into yet another day living the American dream.