by Keef Rutledge on August 15, 2012

Last year, I took a trip to Las Vegas for the first time. One night, I got separated from the rest of my group, and found myself drunk and ambling down a side street with very little traffic. With no idea where I was, I flagged down a cab and gave the Pakistani driver the address of my hotel. I closed my eyes in the back seat, and when I opened them up, we were in darkness. I whipped my head around and saw the lights of the city far behind us through the back window. I started yelling and slapping at the cabbie; he pulled off the road, killed the engine, and stepped out of the taxi. I got out, squared off, and started yelling at him. “What, man? What the hell? What is wrong with you?” When I stopped yelling, he slowly undid the top five buttons of his shirt and opened it. On his chest, tattooed in black ink, was a portrait of me. I immediately punched him right in the center of my likeness. The impact made the sound of a branch hitting an empty oil drum. I sank to my knees, sobbing, and he gently and silently stroked my hair.

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Keef Rutledge lives in Austin, Texas, and can be seen at

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

tim July 4, 2013 at 6:07 am

WTF!!!!???? I love this!!!!


tim July 4, 2013 at 8:36 am



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