Cab Driver: Where you going?
Me: Penn Station
Cab Driver: Where you going?
Me: Penn Station [a little more clearly]
Cab Driver: I know. Where you going on the train? Canada?
Me: That’s an odd guess. Why would you say that?
Cab Driver: You sound Canadian.
[Meanwhile, police at the checkpoint on my street are checking the cab before clearing us to pass through the cross street]
Me: Huh, okay but no, I’m not going to Canada.
Cab Driver: So where you going?
Me: Washington
Cab Driver: You look like a politician
Me: Well that’s not very nice
Cab Driver: What?
Me: I said, that’s not very nice.
Cab Driver: Why not?
Me: Well, why do you think I look like a politician?
Cab Driver: You seem serious. And your hair.
Me: Huh. Okay. So if I tell jokes and mess up my hair, what would you guess?
Cab Driver: What?
Me: If I got in the cab and told you a joke and had messy hair, and said I’m going to Washington, what would you guess?
Cab Driver: I would think you were lying.
Me: What? About what?
Cab Driver: That you’re going to Washington
Me: This is exhausting, and it’s only 5:20 am. I’ll bet you’re just starting your shift. Where are you from, man?
Cab Driver: Yes, I started at 4:00 am. I am from Bangladesh. I am Azam.
Me: Well that’s a cool name. Nice to meet you Azam. Tell me this, do you like politicians?
Azam: No. No I don’t.
Me: I see. Well, Azam. I’m not a politician.
Azam: Haha. I like you.
[pulling up to Penn Station]
Me: Well, this has been weird. Have a good rest of the day.