The night I took the party cab: A Greek tragedy

So, I took the Fredericton party cab last Friday. What is the party cab you may ask? It’s a ghost mobile, riding in and out of town like a stranger in the dead of night. Some say it was made by the devil, others say not even he could make a machine so evil. That’s part of the mystic you see, nobody knows.

Except for me, (and the hundreds of others who’ve been in it). It’s a cab with loud music; a rainbow light ball thing and what looks like a Chinese lantern.

Now you may be reading the title of this dumb article and be saying, “Greek Tragedy? Isn’t that a little much, Joe?” And you’d be right (and weird for talking to yourself like that) but it was a catchy title and I needed your attention. Besides, it’s a tragedy because I was sober. And it’s Greek because I’m using too many letters to say something simple.

It was early in the night; I was with my arts editor (#KaylaByrne). We got in the elusive vehicle, and let me tell you, nothing felt more awkward than the two of us in the back of that cab. The whole thing is kind of like a middle school dance, lights and all. The driver is that super nice dad who wants his daughter and her friends to think he’s cool and makes some racy-but-not-actually-racy jokes, but is the only one who laughs at them.

He is ridiculously nice though; he waits for you to get in the door and stuff, and he played Kanye West. All right in my books.

After we got to the bars, Kayla and I hit up the Capital and we were just in time to see the shittiest stand-up comedian. He was British. Around the time he started talking about the Queen’s gynecologist, I started drinking.

When the night was wrapping-up, Kayla and I found ourselves in need of a cab. Drunk party cab is much better than sober party cab, but you can’t un-see what you’ve already seen. Once you know how lame a middle school dance is you can never go back, especially if you’re 19 and there are teacher supervisors. Don’t ask.

The party cab costs the exact same as a normal cab and it will take you on more of a scenic route. The music is cooler than a regular cab (I hate the fucking Eagles), and the service is top-notch. It is exactly what I expected, and I think that’s my problem with it. There was no surprise to this party, no edge. I think that’s a problem with me though because the driver is putting 110 per cent into this project. He can’t do anything illegal but wants to make the ride more enjoyable for his customer, and I respect that.

The Party Cab is more Saved by the Bell than Wolf of Wall Street, so if you’re looking for a roller-coaster ride where you’re seduced by danger, the devil (and Snoop Dogg), call me and bring your own blow.

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