A Means To An End
A couple of years ago, when I was 24, I was in Egypt and I got into a cab to go home. The driver was on the higher end of 40. I was looking at my phone when he swirled, taking a sharp left, and then drove straight again. I thought there was a pothole or something so I ignored it. A minute later, same thing. Now I started paying attention.
I looked at the road and apparently, he was trying to hit the street cats. He swirled again and this time the car made a little hum. I heard a screeching noise and the cab driver started laughing. I told him to stop for a minute, very calmly got out, and looked back. Yes, there it was, a half squished cat. I went back to the cab, this time to the driver’s side.
I didn’t say a word. Just opened the door, pulled out the driver, and proceeded to beat him like a maniac. He was already bleeding everywhere when finally some pedestrians pulled me off him. I managed to get a final kick out before I got dragged away. Since I speak the language, I was able to tell them what happened and they told me to get away fast before officers came. To this day I don’t regret what I did, but I’ve never told anyone.