Daddio

[INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENT OVER PA]

Hola, ruya. Where to, mami?

44th, between 9th and 10th.

Here you go, buddy.

Feel the magic of the city that never sleeps.

From the lights of Broadway to the paths of Central Park.

Find your playground in New York--

- All right.

God damn it.

- Fuckin' asshole. -

44th and 9th, huh?

Yep.

Midtown.

Good ol' Midtown.

You are my last fare of the night.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

- I won? -

You fuckin' won, sweetheart, you did.

What do I get for winning?

Anything you want.

Yeah.

I had a rough day of it.

Short trips, barely nothing extra.

This fuckin' business with the credit cards.

I mean, when it was cash, people throw you 10, 20, 50.

Fuckin' Monopoly money, right?

But you swipe that plastic, you got time to think.

Staring at all those little numbers,

before you know it,

I get fucked up the asshole.

These fuckin' apps, all of 'em.

Get a coffee, burger, soap, socks,

wine, water, weed, fuckin' Chinese takeout.

You can get all that shit and never reach for your purse.

Nah, not even for tip.

I mean, salt used to be money.

Motherfuckin' salt,

the same shit you sprinkle on your eggs.

You know, every morning you toss that cheap-ass shit on your eggs

with no idea that people used to die for it.

Tea, coffee, same thing.

All that shit you gloss over at the grocery store,

at one point in time,

humans fuckin' killed each other for it.

Bird's eye view of all that shit?

Over the years, you see money go from salt to gold to paper.

And now, money, it ain't nothing but an idea,

just little numbers on a screen.

Can't touch it, can't bury it,

can't put a little X that marks the spot.

Nah, you just tie it to a fuckin' butterfly

and send it up into that cloud up there.

But one of these days, I'm telling you,

that cloud's gonna open up and it's gonna pour acid rain

down all over our dumb faces.

Well, I got you covered.

Yeah?

My bag in the back should settle us.

How?

It's full of salt.

That's good. That's good.

For that, you can use a damn credit card, honey.

- - It is what it is at this point.

I mean, cabs, yellow cabs are like fuckin' Blockbuster.

You know?

Ten years' time, there ain't gonna be no yellow cab no more.

And all the other guys, the ones with the apps,

the ones that are, you know, taking over,

they're gonna be nothing but a blip on the screen

in a fuckin' blink of an eye, all said and done.

Yeah, you'll order up a car on your phone just like before.

But when you hop in,

it ain't gonna be no human behind the wheel,

I can tell you that.

You'll order up a car,

and that fuckin' car will drive itself

to wherever the fuck you want to go.

It won't speed, it won't stink, it won't make you sick.

Won't ever get lost.

Might even ask you how your day was.

- Fuckin' apps. - Fuckin' apps, man.

Want some radio?

Not really.

Yeah.

Okay.

It's nice you're not on your phone.

You don't have to keep talking to me or nothing but...

Just nice, you know?

To see a human not plugged in.

What's your name?

Why?

I just like to know people's names.

Fuck, you really are human.

That's sweet.

Clark.

- Clark. - You thought I'd say Vinny

- or some shit. -

- I don't know what I thought. - Nah, it's fine.

I mean, Clark. Clark...

...has a house in the Hamptons,

he plays tennis, he goes to the opera and shit.

I'm never, ever going to be that guy.

What name would you choose if you could?

Vinny.

- Vinny. - Vinny. Classic.

Of course.

So you live here, right?

I do. - Yeah.

Your little outfit gave you away.

My little outfit?

It says a lot about you.

What does it say?

That you can handle yourself.

How could you possibly know that?

It ain't that difficult to read people.

I mean, you jumped in, business as usual,

you turned off that damn little screen back there

'cause you already know

what Broadway shows are fuckin' playing.

Didn't even think to reach for your seatbelt.

Why would you?

Had enough rides, in and out. Am I right?

What else?

You gave me cross streets

instead of some recited address from your phone.

I can tell you're not concerned with the meter,

'cause you already know JFK's a flat rate.

- Impressive. - Yeah.

I'm not claiming to be some Sherlock or nothing,

just a guy who pays attention.

You've had a long day, you're tired.

You wanna go home,

take a shower, sleep in your own bed,

and you got in line for a motherfuckin' taxi.

Now that's a New Yorker that pays attention.

Someone who knows what the fuck's going on.

And you're not afraid to look me in the eye.

Like I said,

you can handle yourself.

I like to think so.

- -

Where are you flying in from?

Uh, Oklahoma.

What's in Oklahoma?

I grew up there.

What about your accent?

- Sorry, what? - Your accent.

- My accent? - Yeah.

Don't people from Oklahoma talk like this?

Oh.

Not all of us, apparently.

Where are you from? What part of the state?

Just a tiny little town.

What's the town?

- You've never heard of it. - What's the town?

Okay, so Oklahoma is shaped like a pan, right?

So if my arm is the panhandle...

Yeah?

Then I grew up here.

- The armpit. - Of Oklahoma.

What's it called?

- Gage. - Gage, Oklahoma.

You got it.

I, honest to God, would never have guessed Oklahoma.

What would you have guessed?

Not an armpit, I can tell you that.

How long you been in New York?

- Nine years in June. - No shit?

No shit.

One more year and I'll be official.

- What you do for work? - I'm a programmer.

- Computers? - Computers.

- No shit? - No shit.

Like ones and zeroes and that shit?

Like ones and zeroes and that shit.

Huh.

You thought I'd say something more girly, didn't you?

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Yeah, I thought, you know, wedding planner.

- Or fashion or something. - Fashion, hmm.

Not as many women code, I'll give you that.

Yeah, you drew a line in the sand,

lifted your leg and left your mark.

I don't mind squatting.

So what's the deal with the ones and zeroes?

Like?

They're like building blocks and whatnot.