Being a girl in this job is not usually an issue

I'm heading out 26, bound for Stars Cabaret, and the seemingly Mundane Average White Guy in the back wants to smoke. I politely tell him that's now illegal. He starts going on and on about how the customer is always right until I slightly-less-politely tell him that, in fact, in my cab the customer is not always right, and perhaps he should consider being quiet the rest of the way.

And then it starts. I should treat my customers with more respect. I should be afraid, being a girl in this job and all. He might just have to teach me a valuable lesson. I cut sharply over to the shoulder with a squeal of tires. I turn around and very quietly tell him to get out.

"I'm not getting out here, we're in the middle of the fucking highway."

"You're right, we are. And before you say another fucking word you might want to think about exactly why it is that I'm not afraid of this job or afraid of you and your big fucking mouth. Now get out of the cab before I pull you out this side and throw you into traffic."

He gets out without another word. I grab the pack of cigarettes he left and take aim at his head, but I miss by a mile. My hands are shaking too badly.