The passengers make out during the ride, ignoring him as if he were part of the inanimate machine. Travis checks them out in the rear-view mirror. After the ride, he drives his cab through a geyser stream from a broken, erupting fire hydrant, washing the filth off his windshield. Some nights, I clean off the blood. After transporting late-night passengers who subscribe to the pleasure principle, Travis models his own behavior after theirs.
Days go on and on.
They don't end. I don't believe that one should devote his life to morbid self-attention. I believe that someone should become a person like other people. A faceless person in a crowded city, Travis is unconnected and de-socialized from conventional patterns of reality. She was wearing a white dress.