Conspiracy Theory: The Sequel

Remember that movie Conspiracy Theory that came out in 1997? A pre-Sugar Tits Mel Gibson played a New York City taxi driver with loose screws who conveniently befriended government employee Julia Roberts. That's all I remember about the flick--well, also that Julia had an annoyingly straight, blown out bob that frustrated me as a curly-haired red-head. But anyway the point is that Big Apple cab drivers=frequently crazy. That is all you need to know.

Tonight I came back from Boston via the Fung Wah. The Russian bus driver flew and we arrived in Chinatown, New York in less than 4 hours. At one point the driver started smoking cigarettes, and a passenger threatened to call the cops, and I was going to sock that passenger. Who cares about second-hand smoke? I got to get home quick because I forgot to set the DVR to record Andromeda Strain on A & E!

Luckily, no cop was called, the Fung Wah parked, and I got out of the bus.

Because I was eager to get home to my television, I decided to live it up and take a cab home. I am usually very cheap and don't do this. But, I had all my stuff and was dying to watch Living Lohan and Denise Richards: It's Complicated. When you have a job as I do, there are limited hours to watch your programs, even if you do have a DVR and no roommates.

I flagged a cab and get one of the mini-van taxis. A moment of excitement flit through my body: Could this be the Cash Cab?

To my disappointment, it was not Ben Bailey--he's the super hot host of the Discovery Channel gem--but instead some other white dude. THIS particular guy had straggly blonde hair and reminded me of Travis in the movie Clueless, except all grown up and still not banging Tai.

Travis asks me destination and I tell him.

Then he starts asking me more questions: Where are you coming from? Boston. What do people do in Boston for fun besides go to pubs? Well, in Cambridge they protest. Are you Irish? Irish and German. What's your sign--Pisces? No, Leo.

Now, you all know me. I'm not exactly Little Miss Bo Peep. I have a tendency to open my mouth and allow words to exit at a very frequent pace. But this guy started getting a little too personal. So this excited me because then I thought, they're bringing back Taxi Cab Confessions!

I got my pen ready to sign the release when Travis inquired:

What do you know about Kabbalah?

Man, that's a weird question to ask on Taxi Cab Confessions. Normally they would ask me when was the last time I paid/was paid for sex!

I told Travis not much, except pre-Madonna I took a class on Magic, Religion and Science my sophomore year in college and there was one lecture on it.

What about Zorostrianism?

At this point I realized I was NOT on Taxi Cab Confessions. Before I had a chance to respond, Travis butt in:

Because I've been reading up, and there are all the connections between the religions, and also the back of a dollar bill.

Really? I am now asking the questions. Tables have turned my friend.

Travis is illuminated. Oh yeah, for sure, he says. There are things on dollar bills, and then if you go look at the ceiling at Grand Central, you'll see all this symbology, and I've been studying it to see how much of the history of the world it explains.

Oh Jesus, I think. I've got one of the crazys.

Travis will not be stopped: And then if you go to the Masonic Temple, and study the freemasons, it kind of makes sense.

I'm quiet at this point. I just want to get home and watch "Miss Rap Supreme."

Travis babbles on, and all I can think is: This man knows where I live. My mom nags me to take cabs more to be safe, but she didn't foresee Mel Gibson Junior to attack me on the benefits of studying the DaVinci Code.

We arrive to my destination. I pay Travis and get the hell out. He drives away. I enter my home.

I'm kind of freaked out and need to cleanse my palate of spooky conspiracies. Thank God I set my DVR to record all episodes of Golden Girls!

I'm off to Miami kids.

Au revoir,

Liz