last night, i got into a cab to come home. i told the driver where i was going and sat down to put on my seatbelt. when the cab failed to jet off immediately (they have a tendency to hit the gas the second they know their destination), i looked back up. the driver was staring at me in the rearview mirror. embarassed, i looked back down. then, when the cab still did not move, i looked back up and met his gaze yet again.

"you have a beautiful smile," he told me.
"thank you," i replied.

then we started moving.

now, was i romanced by this comment? did i quietly resolve to give him a bigger tip? did i file it away under the "compliments for a rainy day" mental folder?

no. i quickly pulled out my phone and sent a text message to mike: "the driver just told me i had a beautiful smile. if i get kidnapped, this is the number of his cab."

cynicism? probably. a little paranoid? definitely, especially since i did make it home in one piece just a few minutes later.

but still, if i was going to be kidnapped, i at least wanted mike to have an idea of where i was.