“I wish I brought my gun”

I waited at the club one more time. There was no hint of a sunrise in the sky, but it was coming and one group after another was slowly walking out of the place. A small sport-utility yellow cab came up to the back exit ignoring the yellow cabs already waiting in our line of anarchy, blocking all traffic and then ignoring the honking of stretch limousines behind. A group of guys came over to the cab, but then realized the situation and hopped in my cab instead. Three skinny newbies scooted across the back seat and leaned forward attentively, A larger man with a shaved head came in to the front and became one with the seat. He erupted with a bold proclamation in his homegrown accent, "THAT PLACE SUCKED, WOW GUYS WHAT WAS THAT? THAT SUCKED SO BAD," he paused not long enough for a reply, "OH MAN I WISH I BROUGHT MY GUN".... I must have raised my eyebrows, possibly chuckled a little, so he reassured me that they were good people, "Oh don't worry we’re cops," he said.

“COPS!?” I shouted, “Well… THAT’S reassuring!!”
“Yeah, we’re state troopers.”

Anyway, they were alright, turned out he was from New York, his friends were from Boston, so I told him about my dreams, my goals and settling for taxi driving. I wanted to be an architect, but I wasn’t good at math

“Math?” he said, his face squeezed as if he sucked a lemon, “You don’t need to know math to be an architect, don’t mess with yourself like that! Common be an architect.”

He talked with his buddies about the drugs they wish the club had given them. And the group left the cab, tipped nicely, and were on their way.