This stems from a blog I've been reading for a long time now, written by two NU alumni who are pretty badass, if I may say so myself. Basically they do a lot of crazy shit, then write about it so we can all be entertained. Even if you don't like road trips, zombies, steampunk, or pirates, you'll love The Unplanned Misadventures of Mirmir and Bess. Now, these guys are pros at misadventures, but I have a few of my own to share. Maybe I'll do another post if this one turns out ok.
Let's call this particular adventure, THE TAXI, because that's what the story's about. Well, actually it's about crazy people, but we'll stay with THE TAXI.
In sophomore year I went to Six Flags Fright Fest with a few friends on a sort of school-sponsored field trip (I.E. A bus drove us there and back, and we got great discounts). Eventually the group split up and I was with my friend Miles, one of the organizers of the trip, and my other friend Susanne, a foreign exchange student who truly is made of awesome.
Note: None of us are IL natives. Keep that in mind. It comes back to the story later.
SO we got to the park at 4pm, and were expected to be in the bust by 9:30pm, or some other equally ridiculous time. Because really, who goes to a theme park at 4pm? No one. It's just not smart. You ride like, two rides and then you leave? Not cool.
So Miles, Susanne and I got on one ok ride, then we HAD to go to the haunted house, and then, at like 7:30 or 8, we decided to risk getting in line for SUPERMAN, which is hands down, the best ride at Six Flags IL. We got in line, realized it was going to take WAY longer then an hour and a half, Miles called the buss at 9:30 and we ended up missing it. On purpose.
Because we are innovative college students, and we can figure out public transportation, logic be damned.
Sigh.
The ride was great, but when we went to see when the next bus to take us to the EL was, we realized we had to sprint to get to the stop on time.
And sprint we did. Or rather, we power walked, which may as well be sprinting.
Anyways, we made it to the stop just in time to wave goodbye to the bus, and found ourselves face to face with four people. Two couples. They all had swooshy hair, various piercings in various places, and dark, tight clothing. I automatically assumed that they were either a) the kind of folks I hung out with in high school or b) vampires. So I struck up a conversation while Miles called a cab.
We sat at that bus stop for a good twenty minutes, and our cab didn't show. So we decided to try another cab place. This time, and I'm not sure who suggested it, we decided to share a cab with the other people, since it would down the cost significantly.
"As long as you don't mind riding with a bunch of crazies," I joked.
One of the guys looked at me. "No, I'm pretty sure we're crazier than you."
Awkward Kira should have said nothing. Instead, I said, "Doubtful." The smile made it not hostile, ok???
The cab came, I got in the back, one couple squeezed next to me while Susanne and the other couple sat in roughly the same arrangement in the next row. Miles got the front seat, because he doesn't sit next to anyone (haha, jk Miles).
In our tired delerium, Susanne and I promptly fell asleep. Miles stayed awake, and therefore his story would be far more interesting than mine, but I DID wake up a few times, catching conversations (between the vampire boys and cab driver) along these lines:
"And then we beat him up."
"Why?"
"He owed us money. Almost killed him."
"Must have been a lot of money."
"Oh yeah, almost 400 dollars."
And
"And then he stabbed me. In the ribs. Wanna see the mark?"
"Uh, sure?"
And
"This is where he shot me. Caught me right in the wrist. And I'm missing a few teeth from a fist fight, which is why I always bring brass knuckles with me wherever I go now."
And
"And then they made me their chief."
Ok, maybe not that last one, but the others are barely paraphrasing the conversations. I'm sure there are more, but those are the ones etched into my memory. Forever.
Strangely, I was never afraid, just mildly interested and tired beyond belief. I did catch a few glimpses of Miles, whose eyes remained a little too wide the entire time as he stayed silent and tried to remain off of their radar. I also saw Susanne, sleeping peacefully as talk of near-murder and death and let-me-explain-how-stupid-those-darn-democrats-are filled the taxi.
Looking back, I'm glad I was too tired to freak out. I might have incensed the boy with brass knuckles, and we wouldn't want that, now would we? This problem also could have been avoided if we'd had a basic understanding of the Chicago transit system, or if we had NOT SHARED A TAXI WITH CRAZY VAMPIRE PEOPLE.
Eventually we found out the El had stopped running for the night, so we spent roughly an hour with the crazy people, before arriving safely on campus. Honestly? They might have been lying, but then I don't want to know where those scars came from. I'm surprised we got out of there without them saying anything too douchey or racist or sexist to ignore. Not that I'd have noticed if they did...
The moral of this story could be that one should never trust a man who wears skinny jeans. Or maybe the moral should be that if a person might be a vampire, you shouldn't assume they sparkle, and you should assume they've killed someone. All's well that ends well, perhaps? No.
Moral: Don't share cabs with strangers.
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