What's Up Schmutzie's Butt: Cab Drivers Who Relentlessly Question My Choice of Wine

Schmutzie: Could you pull around to the Empire Hotel first so I can pick up a couple of bottles of wine?

Cabbie: Sure, but they have terrible wine.

Schmutzie: Most of their wine IS terrible, but they carry a couple of wines that aren't too terrible.

Cabbie: I took someone there yesterday, and they had me drive all the way to the south end of the city to get better wine because the wine was so terrible there.

Schmutzie: They have a pinot grigio that won't peel the paint off the walls.

Cabbie: I doubt it.

We arrived at the liquor store. I bought the non-paint-peeling pinot grigio and some variety of Lindemans, admittedly not their best, and got back into the cab.

Schmutzie: Thanks for waiting! The next stop is [my address, redacted].

Cabbie: You going to drink those?

Schmutzie: No. These are for the cats.

Cabbie: What?

Schmutzie: Nothing.

Cabbie: Why don't you drink better wine?

Schmutzie: Because it's too late and the better liquor store is closed, and I am not going to pay you more than twenty dollars to drive to other side of the city for a better selection of 12- to 15-dollar bottles of wines.

Cabbie: Maybe you should have picked up some beer instead.

And then I did not strangle him from the back seat not only because I did not want his offensive cologne to rub off on my handwoven alpaca scarf but also because I am mostly sure that I am a good person who does not murder cab drivers for being assholes.

Pat Pat Pat

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