cab ordered

at about 3 o'clock on sunday morning i found myself at a gig after-party/pretentious wankfest. i had not actually been in attendance of the gig itself - i was too busy getting liquored up with the boys - but was convinced to attend the after-party nonetheless.

it was a good enough shindig i guess. dark, loud, smoky, and inhabited by various creatures with tight jeans and wacky hairdos. but after about an hour i found myself sitting alone, watching my friends dance, keeping a defensive eye out for the strange little man who was trying to "woo" me (his words), and just really fucking bored. it occurred to me that i hadn't had a conversation with anyone (other than myself) in about 20 minutes, and that i had no desire to do so anyway.

so i decided i better get the hell outta there before someone tried to talk to me or the strange little man came back a-courtin'. so i mumbled my goodbyes and stumbled out onto the street in search of a taxi. being kings cross, i endured a few wolf whistles and calls of "hey baby, how much?" before my chariot finally arrived.

you will probably be shocked and appalled to discover that i was rather tipsy when i got in that cab. and when i say "tipsy" i mean "really fucking trashed". i had started drinking at 6, and gone strong until i left the club. i was drinking with the boys and these boys are hardcore boozers with a zero tolerance policy for empty glasses. my occasional pleas of "i can't drink as much as you guys" and "can't i just sit this one out" and "who put the rohypnol in my dri..." are generally either ridiculed or ignored. so it's either booze on or bust out with these fellas. and i choose the booze.

suffice to say i don't remember the entire cab ride home. and i certainly don't recall exactly how the driver and i ended up in a heated discussion about domestic violence in marriage. but what i do remember is being disgusted by what he had to say and a little concerned for my own safety. here are some of the wonderful thoughts he had on the matter:

- "marriage is for better or for worse and if the 'worse' part includes violence well then that's just too bad."

- "the divorce rate is too high because women think it's okay to destroy their families just because their husband hits them."

- "my sister puts up with her husband's violent temper, so why can't other women do the same?"

- (after asking me if i've ever been hit) "you must live in a pretty perfect world, sweetheart."

i sat there silent and rigid, having stopped arguing with him after a few minutes when i realised he was a raging psycho. he babbled on and on about family values and whinging women and the evils of feminism, and i listened to him ranting while simultaneously memorising his id number. and when we reached the beginning of my street i threw $20 at him, told him to have a nice existence, and got the fuck out of that car as fast as i possibly could.

and i must say that by the end of that taxi ride i was one hundred percent, straight-line walking, stone cold sober.