Curmudgeoned Cabbie

I can't tell you what time of the early morning it was when we pulled up in front of my house on Saturday. We had made an (albeit drunken) appearance at every teenaged drinker's watering hole in SLO. Almost arrested, nearly robbed and all in the span of 4 or 5 hours. When the cabbie announced our total (cuz I couldn't focus on the red digital lights to READ it) we all rummaged around our pockets for cash. $45... My darling husband, who out drank every 21 year old in the bar -combined - tonight, pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, "Here's ... FOUR."
Uh, oh. I came up with pocket lint and D offered a $20.
Queen of the obvious, "We need more money!"
Leaving the most lethargic one to hold the cab, D and I slow motion ran towards the house. He to his suitcase, I to Shelby's piggy bank.
When we returned, John was dozing in the back seat and we piled in on either side. I clutched a bill in my hand while D offered another twenty dollars. That's ...well, you do the math. I certainly was in no shape to. I drew forth my cash..."Here's a (holy shit, oh no) DOLLAR."
The cab driver stepped out of his vehicle.
I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto.
John sprang to life and started harassing the cabbie, "What are you doin' man? Get back in your cab!"
D moved fast, running back to his suitcase in the guestroom before a brawl broke out on our quiet street.
"Here's another twenty!" I heard him heave as he shoved it into the cabbie's hands.
The next thing I remember was waking up to a crying baby at 6 a.m. Ouch.

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