Wanna Split a Cab?

The temperature had dropped by the time I left the salon. I knew there was no way I'd be willing to wait for the bus, so I stopped off at the ATM, withdrawing a 20 for cab fare. I planted myself on what is arguably the best corner in Baltimore city to get a taxi. While I waited, shivering a bit, I noticed a gentleman that I assumed was waiting for the MTA (this auspicious corner is also a bus stop). I quickly sized him up as being attractive. Of course he was smoking (I always, much to my chagrin, find a nice-looking man with a cigarette to be even more attractive). At one point we made eye contact, and he started talking. He really needed the next cab he said.

"Oh, you're waiting for a cab, too?" (I'd never had competition for a cab on this corner, and by rights, he was there first).

He asked me where I was going and it turns out that he was heading in the same direction, so he asked "Wanna split a cab?"

I indicated that I did, so he got a little more chatty. I learned the better part of his life story. He really really needed to make it to the construction site where he worked to pick up his check, esp. since he's quitting that crew to work elsewhere. He really needed to deposit the check, he said more than once.
He'd been in Europe for the last five years, working as a chef.

"Were you a bohemian artist type?"
"There's nothing bohemian about me; I like expensive things too much...I mean I'm not saying I'm a capitalist or anything, it's not all about money, but I don't mind money."
"So you're a capitalist," I said.
"Not really. I can't be bought."
"I'm a capitalist," I told him.

He asked where I was from and when I answered that I was born in Washington, DC he replied "You didn't make it too fah."

"And you're from Boston," I said.
"Oh, you guessed."

Okay, gentle reader, so here is where I tell you that a couple of things were obvious to me in this moment:

He smelled of alcohol (he said he'd already had a few drinks, but before he mentioned it, I smelled the evidence) and he was not the kind of man with whom a woman should make any sort of emotional entanglement. You don't want to hitch your wagon to his star, believe me.

But he is incredibly charming and personable, and the accent... well, if you're like me, you've got a thing for the boston accent. It slays me! And it was also abundantly clear to me that he'd probably broken a lot of promises and a lot of hearts in his time.

Finally, an unoccupied cab happened by and we both hopped in.

"So, how are we going to work out the fare? I never done this before, I just always see people in movies spllitting cabs." I told him that since my apartment was just a few blocks over from his stop that he should pay 3/4 of whatever the fare would be when he got out and I would take care of the rest.

He gave me a five.

"I'm Matthew," he told me, extending his hand.
"Kate."

We were soon at 33rd and Charles. I opened the door and got out first so he wouldn't have to open the door on his side into oncoming traffic.

"Well, see you later Kelly."
"Kate."
"Right, Kate."