"If I was gonna hit yah, I'd let you get out on the street. And then I woulda hit ah!" Our cab driver was crazy. She was talking to a guy who had hesitated before crossing the street in front of us. The guy had the "Walk" signal, but he sensed danger. He was right. "Son of a bitch." A couple inches of snow on the ground, and she was driving like we were in a chase scene from a low-budget movie. Nothing spectacular, but crazy skidding nonetheless. It was a fitting end to our first trip to the Dedham Hilton, where Dick Syatt is king, everything is out of sync, and nothing changes.
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Students Flying High for Less
