Work.

“Alright man, Ashland and Foster. Is this corner fine?”
“(British accent) Yes indeed. Hey thanks. What do I owe ya?”
“10.50.”
“Alright, here’s eleven. Keep the change! (The most patronizing grin+nod ever)”
“Keep the change? What the fuck do you mean keep the change? What 50 fucking cents? What am I a bum now and you’re bono fucking helping the poor? Yeah your 50 fucking cents would really help me climb the ladder from the box i sleep in to the palaces of Granada, prince william”
“…what you don’t like the tip I `GAAYAIVE` you?”
“Oh no, I love it, doesnt it show? 50 fucking cents? Here, here’s a dollar, (dollar bill thrown at sweet mouth’s face), go buy yourself something nice, and here’s your 50 cents (2 quarters thrown in addition)”
“??????????????”
“Have a nice evening, jackoff. Get the hell out of my cab.”

(Door closes)

“Kutti da bacha. Frekkin foreigners.”
(Radio playing) “97.1 FM the drive, here’s Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody.
“Mama…just killed a man…”
(Thunders rolling somewhere far off. Chicago winds. Another night at work.)