And as if that charming bit wasn't enough, when we finally pulled up to my place following a few short moments of silence he told me about his bad-ass alter ego:
Cabbie: So, what do you do?
Me: I'm a reporter.
Cabbie: Do you report on sexual harassment?
Me: Uh...what was that?
Cabbie: Sexual harassment. Do you report on that?
Me: [slightly confused LOLing] Um, no.
Cabbie: Great! Then I still have a chance!
If it wasn't for the excessive amount of business cards (so I can "hand them out to my friends") imprinted with "Individual & Small Business Bookkeeping," I definitely would've thought "private taxes" was some sort of metaphor for more sexual harassment -- sexual harassment that I apparently would've had to pay for, albeit at a discounted price.
Cabbie: [turns around] I do private taxes too.
Me: I'm sorry? What was that?
Cabbie: [takes out a stack of business cards] Private taxes.
Me: [takes the 16 business cards (yes, Rainman over here counted them)] Taxes? You do people's taxes?
Cabbie: Yes, taxes. I can give you a discount and do your private taxes.
But possible bizarre (and quite hilarious) transactions aside, this guy clearly needs his own show: SEXUAL HARASSMENT ACCOUNTANT CABBIE. It'd be like Taxi Cab Confessions but, you know, with more number-crunching. 2+2=tight!