"48th and Glisan."
The man I've picked up at the bar around 67th and Glisan is pretty dodgy-looking and speaks with the clipped tones of an autistic. It's difficult to determine how drunk he is. As I begin driving west, I punch buttons on the MDT to tell it I'll be dropping off soon.
"Let me put in the cheat codes," he says.
"I can make it so we do an insane stunt bonus."
"No insane stunt bonus in this car, man. I lose points for that."
"How about flying? I know the code that can make us fly."
"I'm not so good at the flying levels, and it's a short trip. Let's just drive."
This is by far the best conversation about Grand Theft Auto I've ever had (not that the list is terribly long). The ability to enter a cheat code into my mobile data terminal and suddenly be able to fly would be very handy in certain situations.
"Stop at the Plaid here."
I pull in so he can buy some beer and junk food, and then drive him home.
"You should have let me enter the cheat codes," he says with some wistfulness. He tips me 50 percent anyway.