Tuesday, April 25, 2017


When I was young I was messing around with this girl in bed.  I was hopping around and
slammed into the wall and broke my dick.  It now is bent.

Sunday, November 25, 2012


.....I should have known when the night started bad...
When I signed on the dispatcher said the supervisor wanted to talk to me at the office...now!
Turns out he's had a complaint from another driver.  I had not answered a first call until nine minutes
after I took it.
Four minutes beyond the allocated time of five minutes.  He did not say who complained, what trip or what time.
I didn't know what he was talking about.  I explained, sometimes it's difficult to get thru on the radio.
He accepted the explanation then said he would be enforcing the "five min." rule.
The first call were some old folks out of a hospital.  I
 had to get aggressive with her for, "over directing".
Then there was a noise in the right front wheel.  I stopped and popped the hub cap.  It was the cap inside.
Next I go to a Christmass party in Highland Park from the airport.
Later I'm sitting on the Hillcrest stand when I take a call for La Cieniga and Saturn.
Before I get there the dispatcher announces that the U.S. has just invaded Panama.
At La Cieniga and Saturn I call in for the address.  It's 8542 Saturn, apt #2.
I look at the numbers.  I'm in the 6000 block of Saturn.  The 8500  block is quit far away.
I call in to find out why they sent me so far away from the numbers.  In spite of three or four attempts I was un-able to get thru because the dispatcher was so busy talking about the invasion.
I looked down Saturn.  It ended a couple of blocks W. of La Cieniga.  I went to Pico to head W. but discovered that the 1st block W. of La Cieniga
the numbers jumped to 8500.
I located the address.  I honked the horn and waited.  When no one showed I got out and knocked on the door.  No answer.  The house was dark.  I figured it was a prank.
Back in the cab I double checked to make sure I was on the right St.   I was.  I tried to call in but the dispatcher was still going on about the invasion.
I made a judgement call.  I decided I wasn't going to be able to get thru so I returned to the stand.
Maybe five minutes go by when the dispatcher calls and asks what happened.
I told him.  He said I should have called him to call them out.
I told him I had tried but was un-able to get thru because of the invasion chatter.  He expressed suprize then apologized. I went back and got the fare.
He was going to Gardena  At La Cieniga and Centinela the dispatcher called and asked my location.  He said call him when I got back to Westwood.
Later he was complaing that I had criticized him over
the radio.  I had to meet the night supervisor and explain.
By the time we finished it was 2 A.M.  I called it a night.


One of the company rules was, drivers, except for the call of nature must remain in thier cabs.
The reason for this is because when drivers sit around on a stand, they sit in each others cabs and talk.  When they get a call on the radio they try to take it in someone else's cab.  Another number comes up on the screen in the office and adds to the confusion.
Iranian drivers spend a lot of time squabling over infractions of the rules.  This is a waste of time and energy which is a dis-advantage in the taxi game and how it's played.
The Iranians learn thier area fast enough, but thier territory is small, therefore they are limited.
I on the other hand having lived in L.A. for thirty years knew a larger area and therefore played a larger game.
The other night I picked up at Carlos n' Charlies on the strip and dropped at the "Rivers" hotel at Seventh and Central.  He said his parents stayed there in 48'.  I screwed a whore named, Nicky there.
It is in an area populated by Mexican cross dressers posing as hookers, a real life circus.
I had lived in this area and knew enough to try and catch a load out of the truck stop at Olympic and Alameda.  I hadn't been in the area for some time and was suprised to find the truck stop...gone!
Across the street, standing next to a cab with out a driver was a security guard who wanted to go the other side of Atlantic.  Wow....a Beverly Hills cab East of Atlantic.
Note:  Beverly Hills cabs were only allowed pick up
in Santa Monica, L.A. and L.A. county.  Even tho it was a Beverly Hills cab we were not allowed to pick up in Beverly Hills.  We were told we could have
every thing, West of La Cieniga.
After dropping him off the other side of Atlantic I returned to E. Seventh to video some of the Mexican cross dressers.  No sooner do I get the camera out when a walk up wants to go to El Monte.  A good, long trip.
If I got a flag while I was out there, would I pass it up, legal or not?  Who's around?  Who would know?
A couple of days later I catch a fare off of Santa Monica and Barrington.  A young couple who had thier car stolen.  They went from W.L.A. to Sixth and Alvarado.
At Eigth and Alvarado a good looking chick catches my eye.  I stop and park for a few minutes.  A highly wired white hooker and her pimp jump in and go to the Downtowner at Olympic and Figueroa.
...I catch a couple off the Sixth St side of the
Biltmore to Van Nuys, then back over the hill to Westwood.
....a house at Texas and Brockton to Hy's in Century city.
....he gets out, someone else gets in to the Four Season's at Third and Doheny.
...he gets out, a Chinese couple get in, to the Bel Air Hotel above UCLA.
...cruise it once then back to Westwood.  Back to the Bel Air for a trip to Malibu.
...in Santa Monica catch one to Westwood and call it a night.
...that's the way it goes...!!

Tuesday, October 2, 2012


After going thru all my old cab driving stories I came across the following.  It's not exactly a story but more or less a running account of a typical evening, most of which will be absolutely meaningless if you don't know the L.A. area and may still be meaningless even if you do.  I've decided to include it here for no particular reason other than I'm short on material.
Sometime in Nov. of 89 my money was running low and I needed some things for the boat.  Art sales
were slow so I decided to stoop as low as a real job.
I contacted someone I knew from Venice Beach.  He was a driver for Beverly Hills Cab Co.
I called him up then went and filled out an application.  I had to go into downtown L.A. and take a DOT test.  I made it on time but forgot my license and had to return the following week.

I began driving cab 3301 on Nov. 14, 1989.  Primarily around the West side,Westwood, Santa Monica, etc. Even tho I was driving for Beverly Hills Cab Co I was not allowed to pick up fares in Beverly Hills.
This was a different, upscale class of people un-like my old cab driving days in the central city.

One of my first loads was a black woman out of an expensive hotel next to the San Diego Freeway.
The rooms were a hundred dollars a day.  Her and her new husband had been there thirty days.
With the last thousand dollars she rented an apt in
the San Fernando Valley.
The day they were supposed to move he disappeared.  She said he was a gambler but she could beat him.  She didn't mind him being gone because they had spent so much time together.
She was heading for an area of L.A. known as the jungle to borrow a hundred dollars from a friend.  This driver predicts the relationship will not last long.

Then there was a super good looking chick out of the exclusive Beverly Hills hotel above UCLA.  She claimed to work for a record company.  My guess was she was on a drug run.  I was right.  On the way back we pulled around a corner and did a couple of lines.

How about the two Korean guys out of Westwood who said they wanted to go to Lexington Ave.  The one guy said he knew the way and would take us directly there.  Then he told me to turn right on Wilshire Blvd when I should have gone left.  I thought there might be a Lexington in Santa Monica that I didn't know about.
When we got to the ocean I asked him which way.  He said left on Virgil.  I told him there was no Virgil here just the ocean.  Well the shit hit the fan.  They said it was my fault.  Not so.  The meter said thirty three dollars when we got there.  I collected twenty.

Got a slim, good looking blonde way back in the hills and took her to Park La Brea.  After stopping at Barney's Beanery to change a hundred dollar bill and grab a bite to eat she gets back in the cab and tells me she has trouble sleeping.  Turns out her husband died at thirty six from a heart attack.  She looked awfully small and vunerable in the back seat.

A young girl out of Nordstroms going to Venice and Lincoln.  Halfway there the meter hits eleven dollars when she thinks she forgot her wallet with her money in it.
We turn around to head back.  I stop and suggest she make sure she forgot it before we return.
The fare would be thirty three dollars when we got back to where we were at.  After a quick search she locates it.
Imagine how bad she would have felt if we had returned and she discovered it was with her all along.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012


One sunday morning in Charleston, S.C. I picked up a woman on her way to church.  Somehow we got into a discussion about relationships.
Talking about her boyfriend she said,"...I used to like sex." 
I replied "...too bad I was gonna' ask if you wanted pull over for a qwicky before church."

Wednesday, March 7, 2012



Passengers that jump out and run without paying. Usually young males.  Imagin' that.

The call was for the "Pig".  Piggly Wiggly supermarket that is.  A young African-American male.  Had a dew rag on.  The kind with double flaps in the rear.  An obvious queen.  Said she wanted cab # 21.  He wasn't available so do you want to ride with me, yes or no?

She said she wanted to go to the Citadel Mall in W. Ashley, then back downtown to America St. in the hood.  A good run, maybe fifteen dollars.

She wasn't a talker.  She wanted to go to Dillard's in the lingerie dept.  Go figger.

We pull up in front.  I asked how long?  She sez, she's just gonna' pick up her check.
I looked at the door.  Cab driving had taught me, queen's are flakes, you can't trust what they say (but then who can you trust?)

I thought once she's around that corner and outta' sight I'll never see her or my money again, or wait twenty minutes then go inside to find her shopping.

I said, I'll go with you. So I did. She didn't go directly to the office for her check.  She wanders around then stops to look at something.  Then sez, are you going to follow me all over the store.  I reply, now that you said that, yea....!!

She stops to look at something else.  I ask, what are you doing?  Shopping she sez.  Do you have money to pay for the cab fare, yes or no?

Got lucky, just then a cop walks in.  He was there to investigate a call of shots fired. I call him over and explain the situation to him.  She goes into motor mouth about the wrong cab.  We have to follow him till he and his partner investigates the shots fired.

Were told to sit and wait.  The queen goes into a store and calls the cab company.  The cops return.  She doesn't have the money.

A call is made to her sister who sez she was suppose to be there and pay the fare.  News to me.  When was this going to happen? If you were supposed to be here, what are you doing in N.Charleston? How long am I expected to wait?  Why wasn't I told about this right up front instead of a lie about a check?

When I got on the phone with the sister she was hostile to me so I hung up.  The cop said she was polite to him and that I was the rude one.  Of course she was polite to the cop.

Anyway he got back on the phone and it was arraigned for me to take her to N. Charleston to collect.

In N. Charleston I'm told to wait downstairs.  Sister comes down and makes some nasty remark then throws a twenty on the ground.  I pick it up and as I'm walking away say, "Na-nah na-nah, I got the money".

Two months before I had taken a woman to a beauty salon.  There was two dollars and seventy five cents on the meter.  The beautician came out and started hasseling me, saying I took the long way.

I threw fifty cents on the ground.  Guess who the beautician was?

Wednesday, February 29, 2012


The call was for Garret St. near Dorchester.  A young black girl got in.  When I threw the meter it showed a dollar fifty.  Some times called a flag drop.

She protested, a dollar fifty already?

A person who would say that is poor and is not familiar with riding cabs.  That raised the red flag of warning of potential problems.

I asked her destination.  It sounded like Sears which would mean go to the end of the block, left onto Remount, right onto Rivers.

No sooner do I pull off than she asks, why are you going the long way? (It's called the long way game)

There is a a certain group of people who are notorius
back seat drivers and complainers. So I do what I do, I pull over and stop to discuss it.

I asked her how much difference in the fare she thinks from here to the corner would make?
At the most a nickel, more like two cents and your hasseling me over that.  I'll tell you what if your that hard up I'll give you a quarter and you'll be that much ahead.

With that we took off my way.  At Remount and Rivers I give her a bit of advice, "If your watching the pennies you can't see the dollars".

Turns out she was going to a motel on Rivers so I had started in the right direction.

At the motel an older man comes out to pay.  The fare was six dollars and ten cents but I rounded it off to six even. He paid it.

Turns out she was a young hooker serviceing an older trick.  She wasn't even paying for it and was hasseling me about it.

Some people are just too cheap.

There's a saying on the streets, blacks are cheap, niggers are worse.


One night I pick up this guy in town.  He wants a whore so I take him where I know they are.  A little private dance shack on the edge of town.

About a hour later I get a call for the bar across the street.  It's him.  He did not get layed.  The girl complained he was "too big" and was hurting her.  He got his money back and left.

So much for big dicks.  He was white.


.....that's who he reminded me of

It was a foggy rainy night.  The call was for one of those bars on Sullivan's Island.

(Sullivan's Island is where they quarantined the slaves before taking them to Charleston for sale.  It's also where I was working on 9/11)

He was waiting out front.  Said he wanted to go to Snee Farm (an old plantation).

First thing he talks about is do I need a lawyer for things like a DUI.  Not now, thanx.

He drops a business card on the front seat.  He wants to stop at an ATM machine.  At the ATM he gives me his bank card and tells me the code.  No, no, don't do it, to much like a set up.

After he gets some money he has me drop him at a woman's house.  They were a pair once.  Hadn't seen each other in a long time.  The old spark was still there.

After he gets out I pick up the card.  He was a professor of pharmacology at the local university.

Go figger


Jesus drives cab at night.  Tell him your sins, give him a big tip and he'll take them away into the night.  You'll feel better for a little while anyway.

Oh how cheaters love to confess.  I pick a guy up on a one way street.  He tells me that's not where he lives.

He was going to see a woman he was involved with before going into the military.

He had met and married the mother of his child in the service.  He got out on a disability.  The mother stayed in.  He moved to Charleston, to raise the child.

Mama was home on leave.  The other woman couldn't wait and paid the fare.

Here's the skinny from the streets on wimmen.

A woman doesn't want a man no other woman wants.  It's a bigger feather in her cap to take a man away from another woman.  More of a challenge to her feminity and ego.

The trick to getting another woman is put a wedding band on.  Tell the woman who bites, that your seperated and as soon as your divorced you expect to start collecting a big, fat alimony check.


The call was for a hotel in the marina area.  A man and a woman going to the market.

He was older, impeccably dressed.  She was middle age.  A little on the Rubenesque side.  She had a sorta', Betty Boop look about her.

They were from Florida, in town on business.  She started by asking me if I knew of the famous guy in Tampa Bay who wieghed titties ?

No I didn't, so tell me about him. She said the heaviest he ever wieghed were twenty two pounds.  Her's looked like a couple of Big Mac's,  quarter pounders.

Took 'em down to a restaurant on E. Bay.  The lord gave me twenty dollars on a four dollar fare and told me to keep the change.  I gave them a card and told them to call me when they were done.  They did

They decided to go to a titty bar.  She was in a good mood but he was a sour puss and wouldn't even buy a girl a drink.  We left and went back to the hotel.

At the hotel we dumped him.  He was pissed. To this day I can still see him standing outside the cab with a scowl on his face. We went and scored some crack and headed to my boat to have a boy/girl party, which lasted about an hour plus.  Then I took her back to the hotel and went and got me some more candy.

Never did sleep much that night.