Andy Angel...No Angel

Ever since taking a cab in San Francisco with a cab driver who had Turets Syndrome (really... this is a true story), I have been hesitant to use cabs. I will go out of the way to walk whenever possible. In dreams unfortunatly you often don't always have a choice.

In my dream I was taking a cab in some ominous, unfamiliar city. The cab driver was the token East Indian, turban and all. He was very friendly and I must add; had very good manners. Across the street a large disheveled blond fellow was walking down the sidewalk. He had a twisted gait as if he was walking with stones in his shoes. His hair looked as if it had been styled with a razor blade ... in prison. I could tell right away that something about him was not quite right. In fact it was undeniably wrong.

My dreams are pretty consistent. If I look at someone in a dream, no matter how far away they are, they will undoubtedly turn around and look at me. I can rarely if ever, hide, remain invisible, or go even slightly unnoticed. Sure enough, as I knew he would, he came to an abrupt halt, and slowly twisted his head around to look at me over his shoulder. I quickly turned and stared forward but before I did, I could see that all his teeth were broken and his smile was menacing. Using my perifial vision I noticed him immediatly crossing the street. Apparently unaware of the cars that came screetching to a halt or swerved around him. He still wore that horrible smile.

I frantically started fumbling for the door locks while staring at the red light that seemed as though it had been red for hours now. I yelled for the cab driver to go but he didn't seem to hear me over his Bollywood soundtrack. He just smiled at me in the rear view mirror, as though I was sharing his enthusiam for the obnoxious sitar wailing through the speakers. I locked my door just as the limping ouf came up to the drivers side. Without any hesitation, he opened the drivers door, punched out my Indian cabbie, threw him out on the street, and got behind the wheel. This all happened in just a matter of seconds. He turned around to me as he sped through the still red light.

"My name is Andy Angel. I'm your cab driver chippie." He had a distinctive Australian accent that surprisingly could be heard over his mess of a mouth.

The dream took a distinctive dark turn at this point. He refused to stop at my required destination, which I had forgotten in all this madness and he proceeded to drive me to my home town of Paso Robles, California. Running over pedestrians and hitting cows along the way. An udder disaster.

"uhm, excuse me, Mr. Angel", I tried to keep my voice from wavering. "I'm really hungry. Can you stop at that Fast Food Joint up the way there?" I had no intention of eating anything at this point. If I could lock these doors then I could just as easily unlock them and run. Usually I can deceive the "monsters" in my dreams. Though they may sense me looking at them a mile away, I can usually trick them into doing what needs to be done to in order to secure my survival. I guess what their lacking for in brains they make up for in terror. No such luck this time.

"Oh no Chippie. This is my cab ride. And the bus doesn't stop here." He apparently thought this was a hilarious response and laughed so much he spit out a broken tooth.