“Son of a bitch!” Jeff slammed on the brakes in an effort to avoid the obviously intoxicated moron spilling onto the street. Thankfully for the stumbling drunkard, Jeff was half expecting the action, as he often was at midnight in the extremely lively downtown club district. He had become as quick at dodging the intoxicated as he was at forming opinions about them . . . and anyone else he met for that matter.

Since he began driving the cab a few months back, he learned quite a bit about the dusk till dawn shift of his town. For instance, he had learned to stay away from the lower west side if possible, that drunken idiots fall into the street pretty regularly when downtown, and the closer to two o’ clock, the better chance of said stumblers. Of course, huge gatherings of drunken people meant lots of cab rides, so downtown was the place to be as a cabby from midnight on, stumblers or not.

Jeff watched as this particular character caught his balance inches before bouncing off of the dulled yellow hood of cab number one forty-two. The guy then shuffled his way back to the sidewalk and disappeared into the sea of partiers flooding the borders of the street.

“Well, he seemed to be in pretty good shape,” Jeff spoke sarcastically to no one. As he began to transfer his right foot from the brake to the gas pedal, the back door opened.

“You on duty?” A man’s voice came from behind Jeff, who turned over his right shoulder. “Can we get a ride? We’re in a hurry!”

The gentleman was clean cut, very sharp. Probably in his late twenties, he was dressed with a youthful flare of style and success. He carried himself well. And though he seemed innocent enough, there was an odd desperation about him.

Desperate or not, a fare was a fare.

“Yeah, jump in.” Jeff smiled, “But I gotta tell ya, I’m not big on speeding, especially at this time of night.”

Within seconds, the man entered the cab and slid over behind the driver’s seat. Following him closely, was a woman. Though her purse shielded her face, her body was very visible. Her outfit screamed ‘Tarzan meets Motley Crue’, with an exposed skin to material ratio of about six to one. Zero body fat. She was scorching.

She slammed the door behind her.

“Go! Go! Get us out of here, quick!” The gentleman barked with little intention of concealing his panic.

“You guys didn’t just rob a bank, did you?” Jeff smiled into his rear view mirror as he began to move the car forward. He posed the question in a joking manner as not to be confrontational, although he was half serious.

The woman began to laugh as she finally exposed her face. Jeff locked view with her for just a moment. In that moment, he was completely lost in the deepest, most seductive eyes he had ever witnessed. Her deliberately painted face and bleach blonde hair fit perfectly with her dance club, rock n’ roll groupie choice of attire. Simply put, she was fucking hot, as hot as any woman who had been in his cab. Come to think of it, the guy may have been the hottest of his sex to have inhabited this particular car as well.