Based on an idea by Trisha.

It was night, see. And I was drunk, obviously, because it was past nine in the morning. So the pub was behind me, finally closing up after letting the 2 a.m. stragglers out. I guess it was 2 a.m. No cab in sight.

And there was this rumbling behind me, and from the alley beside the pub appeared this beaten up old bugger of a car, hopelessly inching towards its death in the morning by the look of it. I flagged it down and got into the passenger seat, and after around twenty minutes of talking, looked up to see that it wasn’t actually being driven by anyone per se, it was just driving.

I relaxed into my seat, lit up a joint, and chatted with the hag. We had an immediate rapport, I think. It listened to me rather nicely. And then it dropped me at the right address and didn’t even charge me anything, which is more than I can say of any cab driver I’ve met.

So this kept happening. I got free rides home, and once in a while, I’d see the car idling in front of my window, and it’d flash its lights hopefully when I looked at it. I’d mostly nod and then turn back to my whisky, and it would turn its lights off.

And sometimes, I’d walk out of the building and sit on the steps of one of the shops nearby, and the car would trundle up close to me and give me company while I finished my next bottle.