One time when I was alone, I had a cab driver who told me that he was having bowel issues and needed me to read him the instructions on the back of a box of laxatives. I did. Then he asked me if I could write said instructions down in his journal, which was a crazy person composition notebook filled with the rantings of a madman. I did. Then we pulled up in front of my building. It totally bums me out that he was just an uber-weirdo and I wasn’t on a hidden camera show that took place in the back of his cab.