how dreams die

one of my life dreams was to be on that show "cash cab"

i imagined the awesomeness of hopping into a cab and having my vast
array of useless knowledge win me a cool few hundred as i cabbed it to
dinner.

oh, i'm so naive.

i met someone recently who was on the show. turns out that he was at
some bar and some person walked up to them and said, "i work for a
network doing a show on cool places in new york. can you think of cool
places you'd want to be filmed talking about? oh, and also, i'm going
to ask you some trivia questions now." this guy did well and was told
he'd made the show. he was met by a producer on a corner and the
producer hails a cab and tells the guy to get in and she'll meet them
at the destination.

and what do you know?! he's in the cash cab. oh, and this guy was
answering the questions without a problem so they had to stop and tell
him to look like he was thinking harder about them to make it look
like he was having difficulty.

he did well and won money, but they don't hand you money. or rather,
the money you get you don't get to keep; you're mailed a check 6 weeks
later.

see that pile of ash on the floor over there? it's what's left of my
cash cab dreams.