It was still dark outside when the cab arrived to take me to the airport. The driver pulled up, climbed out of the car and went to unlock the trunk so I could put my suitcase and computer back in. He was tall, maybe six foot two or six foot three with large muscular arms and legs which were intriguing to watch as he easily picked up my heavy bag. As he turned to climb back into the driver’s side of the cab I noticed his tight ass.
I climbed in back and confirmed I wanted to go to Terminal C at the airport for a ten a.m. flight. It was about a forty five minute drive to the airport and considering my early start I knew I would get there several hours early, but I thought I might try to catch an earlier flight, but if not I could get a bite to eat at a restaurant in the terminal.
As the car pulled onto the road I looked at the driver in the mirror. He was fair skinned but spoke with a bit of an accent, so I guessed he was from somewhere in Europe, or somewhere. Wherever it was a heck of a lot different than the East Texan twang I run into a lot since I moved here. Not that the East Texan twang was a bad thing, but I always was worried I’d say something wrong and some red-neck would be ready to string me up for being a radical.
Still looking at the driver he wasn’t what I’d call good looking, but I am sure some women might admire his rugged features. I’m not real good at conversation so besides a few remarks about where I was going and the weather, the ride was proceeding in silence. Diverting my attention from the driver’s face, I noticed they had a number of postings on the car windows with the fares.
The main fare I saw was the one eleventh of a mile for seventeen cents and I had to ponder that amount, I mean why not one tenth of a mile for twenty cents, it certainly would be easier to calculate. Then I noticed they charged twenty dollars an hour for waiting. I could stop and spend an hour eating and then simply pay the driver twenty dollars.
As we continued toward the airport I began to wonder about the waiting time, did the driver just sit and read or something while waiting? What if the wait was only thirty minutes, did they charge ten dollars or did you pay something more? Remembering his powerful looking legs and arms I pondered another good possibility for the waiting period. What if… nah, he would never, or would he.
Leaning forward in the seat, I said, “You know I have plenty of time before need to be at the airport.”
“I wondered about that, I mean you had me pick you up so early for a ten o’clock flight. I figured you might be trying to catch an earlier flight.”
“I had thought of that, but the weather here is so nice I wonder, say if we stopped for maybe thirty minutes. The fare here says you charge twenty dollars for an hour, what do you charge for half and hour?”
“Well, we really don’t have a rate outlined for that, but if you want to stop and have me wait I’d only charge you twelve dollars.”
“Twelve isn’t bad,” I said. “Do you know of a quiet place to stop?”