"Will Work for Food"

Greetings!

I've recently switched domains from LiveJournal to blogger.com. Here's hoping the transition runs smoothly....

The snow mercilessly continued to fall this weekend, leading me to stay inside for most of it, wrapped up in a quilt, watching DVD's and ordering from Yu Shan. (best spring rolls in Chicago!)

Although, on Friday evening, I did have a nice glimpse of a "only in Chicago" type moment :

So, I'm standing on the curb, freezing my ass off, while looking for a cab. I finally manage to flag one down, as I'm wading in a pool of slush. I open the door and my first thought is "What the hell is that smell?". I disregard it. Cabs are never exactly reminiscent of the Nordstrom fragrance department, so why bother making a face? I give the driver the address while fiddling through my purse. He wants to make small talk. I want to find my lip gloss.

"I should have stayed off the roads, like most of the guys. This weather is for the pitts."
"Oh, yeah. It's really something." I politely reply, while continuing to dig for a compact.
"I'm gonna go down the next street. The cops don't care how bad the weather is-they'll still give you a ticket for doing U-turns. 3 citations and I'm out."
"Okay, that's fine."
"You better stay at your destination for a while. It's gonna be hard to find a cab in about an hour, babe. Stock up on some food, while you're at it."
Chatty cabbie we have here, I think. I'm not fond of making small talk with anyone, let alone while I'm encased in a tin box reeking of b.o.
(he continues to chatter for 5 blocks)
Ah, success! I've found my lip gloss. I look up into the glare of the street light to apply, when I am halted by a loud, grumbly "Uhhhhhhhhhhh."
I look forward and see a head full of tangled, mangy hair pop up from the driver's side of the front seat.
"Um, is ....is she (I'm not sure it's a she at this point) okay?" I frightfully ask.
"Oh, sure, sure. I'm just giving her shelter from the cold for the night."
"Oh, okay."
I pause for a moment and realize this is not an act of charity. What cabbie is going to let a mangy, rancid bum vacate his cab for nothing in return? It was then that I realized the woman had been "working for food".
Is this really happening?
I see I'm across the street from my destination.
"Do you mind if I drop you here? That turn may be tough to make."
Speechless, I throw the fare in the front seat and hop out as fast as humanly possible, still horrified by what just "went down".

Needless to say, he was not tipped. (by me, at least.)