Reggae No Sober

Steel PulseDrunkenly, I love to try and relate to cab drivers. Not in some prick way like trying to make the “plebe” driver feel loved. No, it’s my own anxiety that makes me do it. I can’t stand being in the car with someone else in silence. If the dude can’t speak English, then I can justify the silence to myself, but other than that I have to talk. Continue reading