That time when I got stoned in a taxi. And I wasn’t even smoking anything.
I lunged into the taxi.
It was late and I was desperate for dinner.
The stereo so loud I barked into the iPhone, “Be there soon!”
Slammed cab door, slumped into fake leather seats, and flicked a glance into rear mirror.
Our gaze locked briefly.
“Where to, Miss?”
Too tired to snap. And driver didn’t look creepy.
I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to marinate silently in the thunderous music.
It was a tune from old school days. The bittersweet melody drowned out the lyrics of this silly love duet. I listened nostalgically, almost transported down memory lane when the car jolted to a halt from exiting the highway. Peering out the window, I watched the muted scene of people crossing the street and scattering off to where they needed to be. It was like a strange real-time music video. I hummed quietly inside my head, too guilty and shy if anybody heard.
“Amazing acoustics”, I spoke to the eyes in the rear mirror. The stereo system in the rear deck was his own installation. So were the pleated curtains, the neon-lit floor mats, and a funny-looking bunch of amethyst beads dangling from the roof. “I like to make myself at home”, the shoulders shrugged proudly back at my appreciation.
As we sped on, I was invited delightfully to pick a song from the movable jukebox! He had only one Adele on the playlist. It was not my favourite ballad, but the stereo system delivered the anthem magnificently. Her sirenic voice swelled with the piano chords, strings and chorus. As if we were in a concert, my heart shook synchronously with the thumping bass drums. I was intoxicated by the smokey luscious mush of sounds.
Staring out from the taxi window, it was hello from the other side.