Cash Cab

It’s included with the informational packet given to all Las Vegas immigrants (you know, the one that tells you that turn signals are optional and you can’t get your citizenship card until you get shitfaced at the Double Down): Relentless, gale-force winds are a rite of spring. Therefore, don’t wear a hat unless you’re willing to lose it, don’t wear a short skirt unless you don’t value your modesty and don’t pull a thick wad of bills out of your pocket unless it’s tightly secured.

At least one local cabbie failed to get the last memo. Attempting to make change for a fare at McCarran International Airport on a recent blustery day, the cabbie unintentionally made it rain. The loot flew in the direction of the long, windy cab line, and as patrons scooped up the cash, the cabbie’s forlorn face resembled that of someone who’s wife just left him and took the kids, family dog and every last beer. Then something strange happened, something rarely associated with this land of greed: Common decency took over, as one by one every Abe Lincoln and Andy Jackson was returned to its rightful owner.

Ever grateful, the cabbie said his thanks, then got back in his car and offered his reward: Before he pulled away, he actually used his turn signal.