Two types fill a cabdriver with dread: those looking to score and those looking for a free ride.

A man flagged me down from a bus stop on Fullerton in Lincoln Park. He was headed some three miles west, apparently sick of waiting for the #74. The trip passed in silence until we pulled off onto one of the K streets and he said to stop. “My wife’s been cheating on me and I’m gonna go in there and kill her. I got no money. What you think about that?”