DARE! My Life as a Taxi Hacker

by Alissa Bader


My assignment: take five cab rides and see what I could do to get out of paying. I was told to do anything I wanted, to be creative: throw up, run away, ply the cabbies with sexual favors, fill my mouth with blood capsules and have the fake blood drip down my face, offer them homemade cookies even.

New York cabbies, in case you don't know, are a strange breed. A great deal of the current crop appear to have a remarkable tendency to not only ignore every traffic law ever written, but also to throw all measures of customary courtesy out of the window. In the three years that I've lived in New York, I've been nearly involved in at least four traffic/cabbie accidents; lost my mother's handknitted cap, a portfolio full of important papers, and a wallet, among other things; seen the cabbie attempt to stuff the meter umpteen times; and have been blatantly propositioned on several occasions.

Admittedly, I was a bit nervous about doing this. There's a big difference between throwing a hack in front of the privacy of your computer screen and having to show your fat, silly face in person. When you're disguised behind a computer you can basically do anything you want. You can run your password-cracking scripts, or whatever the hell them silly hackers are doing these days, dressed in nothing but a pair of bunny slippers and one of those fluorescent-goo-filled plastic tube necklaces they sometimes still sell at the dime store, and no one would give a fuck. It doesn't even matter if you put these items somewhere other than their originally-designated space on your body. NO ONE WOULD CARE.

Unless, of course, you were caught in this rather indelicate position by a superior at the office, or if the Authorities managed to catch you, also in this same position, mid-hack. Then again, maybe some people out there are into coding whilst near-naked and then being dragged away in handcuffs by a snarling authority figure. Whatever. Whatever you do in your personal life is certainly your business, so long as it's between two (or sometimes more, I guess) consenting adults. My point here is that so long as you've got some measure of common sense to what you're doing, you should be able to get away with anything you want. Not that I'm condoning you do anything illegal or anything like that. I was just mentioning this as er...yah. A sort of experimental situation of course.



Got a truth or dare for Alissa? Send them in to TorD@stim.com!