Last weekend was spent in the city in order to attend a birthday party for a friend of a friend that would involve a late night and a few adult beverages. It seemed to be a good idea not to drive back home after a night of celebrating. It was also the chance to check into a tiny hotel and spend some time exploring a neighborhood that I only knew second-hand. The mode of transportation that night was taxi cabs and that is my reason for writing.
On the trip from the hotel to the area where the party was being held the driver took a route that seemed to be out of the way. In retrospect the route avoided a lot of the congestion around the Inner Harbor and apparently allowed the driver to practice for the next NASCAR race. Glancing from time to time at the speedometer through the haze of bulletproof glass I saw that we hit speeds of 65 miles per hour on streets with posted speeds of 40. Not something I would ever do but, hey, this guy was a professional and I had no worries about paying the ticket. The potential of a crash involving any number of cars, trucks and pedestrians was another matter. Still, we got where we were going safe and sound and even a little invigorated. The fare totaled $8.
