I get into a cab in front of my friend’s building. It’s a minivan. The driver is smoking in the front seat.

DRIVER: So you live in that building?

ME: No. I’m going to [my address]. My friend lives here, though.

DRIVER: Yeah? I have a friend who lives there, too. Jenny. You know her?

ME: I don’t think so.

DRIVER: It’s a big building.

ME: Yeah.

DRIVER: You notice the thing with the buzzers, how the code is the same as the apartment number?

ME: Yeah. That’s not very secure.

DRIVER: What do you mean?

ME: Well, it’s creepy, a stalker could figure out which unit was yours.

DRIVER: Yeah, I guess so. [Pause.] I was just going to get her apartment number so I could send her flowers. [Pause.] But I see what you mean.

ME: Uh huh.

DRIVER: Did you know a woman shot a guy in that building?

ME: No kidding.

DRIVER: Yeah. She just met him and brought him home one night, and then he started stalking her. He broke in and tried to rape her, but she had a gun and she shot him.

ME: Wow.

DRIVER: Yeah. But I guess it was kind of her fault, bringing home some guy she just met.

ME: Really? I’d say if she told him to back off and he still came within shooting distance, that’s his fault.

DRIVER: Huh.

ME: So are you going to turn that meter on, or is this ride free?