PANAMA INVASION

 

.....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.

MORE BEVERLY HILLS

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...!!

 



BEVERLY HILLS TAXI

NOTE;

 

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.

 

BEVERLY HILLS TAXI

 

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.

3301

 

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.

BLACK

 

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.

HOT CHICK

 

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.

KOREANS

 

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.

SLIM BLONDE

 

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.

TURN AROUND

 

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.

 

 



QWIKY

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."

FROGS

COPS WIN

CAPT FLASH

LAST MOVIE

JACK RABBITS

.....JACK RABBITS

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?

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?



DINNER

TOO CHEAP

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.

TOO BIG

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.



SHERLOCK HOLMES

.....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

CONFESSIONS

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 LORD AND THE LADY

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.



ZEKE

SUMMER

HOLLYWOOD CONFESSIONS

TAXI TIMES

IT HURTS

...here's the bad news

Bad things happen to good people.

I picked up a young woman on James Island.  I didn't notice it when she got in the cab because someone opened the door for her.

Both of her hands were like claws.  When she was in the military she had an accident.  Apparently got hit in the head.  She was angry with God over it. She couldn't understand why bad happens to good people.

I told her about a woman I took from the hospital to N.Charleston.  Her husband was in a truck, stopped at a light when he was hit by another truck.  Broke every bone in his body.  Ruined his life.

While he's in the hospital she discovers she has cancer.

Good and bad, right and wrong, you go figger.

The concept that good is rewarded and bad is punished

is a

FALSE CONCEPT

As often as not just the opposite occurs

That's how we know God luvs us (LOL)



NO GO ROLLS

The Rolls that Wouldn't Roll

Society folks think their better than the rest but they have their magic moments also.

The call was for an exclusive country club on James Island.  Seems there had been a wedding.  A Rolls Royce Limo had been hired.  Trouble was it wouldn't roll.

(How embarrasing, inconvient and prophetic to hire a Rolls to carry you away from your big event and then have it break down.  What a bummer.  Talk about raining our your parade) 

When I got there, the hood was up and people were hoping for a miracle.  My fare was a highly intoxicated society type, maybe in her 50's.

Seem's, Eddie an ex-highway patrolman and her husband of thirty two years got drunk and left her....stranded with the rolls that wouldn't.  So she called a cab, that's where I came into the scene.

She wanted to go clear across town, near where Highway 17 N. intersected with the Isle of Palms connector.  Some apartment complex.

All the way there I had to listen to, "How could he after thirty two years".

Well we get to her place and there is $12.50 showing on the meter.  When we get out of the cab she walks ahead of me.  On the back of her dress was a red spot, as if her period had started when she was sitting down and had seeped thru.

Descretion being the better part of valor I didn't mention it.

Bad News.  Eddie has the keys and he's not home.  Ms. Society begins to panic at the mere thought of having to spend a night...Gawd forbid...outside.

I feel my money slipping away.  A woman who is worried about spending a night in the bushes is not going to be overly concerned about paying a cab fare.

She decides to try a nieghbor who isn't home.

After some serious banging on the door and cursing she decides to try a nieghbor who is home.  Her voice is taking on a tone of panic.   I feel my money slipping further away.

Good news.  This guy is home and better yet produces twenty dollars.

Keep the change driver

Hallelujah, paid again



THUNDER N' LITEN'

Same place...

Charleston, S.C.

I had been driving cab for a couple of months. I had hooked up with a titty bar dancer.  An american indian, Cherokee I think.  I've always had a weakness for injun wimmen.

She was gorgeous.  She was half my age, had raven black hair and a great rack.  Trouble was she was a "rock star".  Luved her krak kandy.

Dind't phase me a bit.  I jumped in head first. I'd pick her up to take her to work.  We'd get a rock and do one first.

This particular night it was raining like hell so we decided to go get another rock.  On the way there we came to a place in the road that was so flooded a car had stalled in the middle.  Didn't stop me, I drove right in.  Just as I pulled around the stalled car another cab came from the other direction.

I swear to this, a wave washed over the cab.  I kept going.  We scored another rock and parked to do it.

She must have been a little horney cause she wanted me to eat her pussy.

I went down on her in the back seat.  Rain was coming down in buckets, Thunder and lighten, were cracking right over us.

She started moaning and groaning.  Then she started howling, "I'm gonna' cum"  KA-BOOM...!! Lighten' flashed and thunder cracked right over head

She came .....all over the cab.

I have been to the mountain.  I have seen the

promise land.  Now I can die in peace.



ROAD WARRIOR

It was primarily my fault.

  I got greedy.  I was driving cab at night in Charleston, S.C.  It was a Saturday night.  I had passed my goal of two hundred dollars by five.  The last fare gave me a couple of buds and I was near home.  It was 2:15 A.M. I should have quite but it was busy so I thought I'd dip one more time.  It was a misstake.

He hailed me on N. Market St.  A young guy, maybe in his early twenties.  I had the feeling he was Scottish.  He said he wanted to go to Mt. Pleasent.  That was a bad start.  It was called the mystery destination game.  Mt. Pleasent was an area not a destination.

He wanted cigarettes so we stopped at the Exxon on Meeting St.  Every hoodlum in the hood was there.

When we got onto the bridge to Mt. Pleasent I asked him if we should take the Coleman exit or 17 N.  He said it didn't matter.  That raised the red flag of warning.

I thought of asking for the fare up front but felt it would start an arguement so I decided to ride on.  After much hesitation he said he wanted to go to the Mt. Pleasent town Center at 17 and the Isle of Palm connector.

So we drive out there.  We pull into the parking lot.  It's deserted.  I asked him where he wanted to to stop.  "anywhere" he said.  We'll that was it.  There was nothing open.  There were no houses anywhere. near.  Instinct told me this guy was gonna' try and run out on the fare.

I stopped and told him the fare was fifteen dollars.  He started giving me a hard time.  He wanted to see my badge.  ( Apparently drivers in Scotland have a badge designating them as drivers) He questioned if I was a real driver.  I showed him my license and again stated the fare was fifteen dollars.  He said he'd pay when he got out.  That was B.S.  The second he got out he'd run like a rabbit. Then he tried to open the door.

Guess what?  He couldn't get out.  The cab was an old police car and the door didn't open from the inside.  Now I knew he was gonna' run. 

I said, "It really pisses me off when someone doesn't pay".  With that I started the cab and started driving real fast.  Then to see if I could scare the money out of him I said, "When people do that I beat the shit out of them".

He must have believed me and panicked because he lay down on the back seat and started kicking the window till he broke it.  He tried to get out of it but I was going too fast.  He came back inside then tried to get out the other door.  When that didn't work he grabbed me so I couldn't see.  I had slowed down so I couldn't throw him thru the window by slamming on the brakes.  I stopped the cab and put it in park and opened the door.

He went out the back door.  I wanted to get to the tire jack in the trunk.

Road warrior had emerged.  He had crossed the line.

A.  He wasted my time.

B.  He didn't pay the fare.

C.  He broke my cab and interfered with my lively hood.

D.  And he dared to lay hands on me.

Three strikes your out.  He had four.  He was way out.  He had made a misstake of antagonizing a veteran road warrior.  I got the tire jack out of the trunk.  As slowly and as cooly as Clint Eastwood stalking the bad guys, I approached him as he frantically pounded on the door of the gas station which was closed.

When I was about fifteen feet from him he turned to face me.  I said, "Wanna' piece of this, come get it".  He did.  When he got close I wacked him  Or should I say it was more like a clunk.  A solid heavy clunk.  It split his head open and knocked his glasses off.  I said, "How'd ya' like that?.  He didn't.

He was drunk, injured and didn't have his glasses.  My advantage.  He tried to kick me in the nuts.  This veteran of many street fights knows a sober guy can easily defeat a drunk.  The alcohol throws their timing off.  He missed then tried to grab the jack.  He didn't get it then tried a fake move.  Didn't work.  He came at me again but I backed him off with a swing of the jack.  He backed off then tried to kick me again.  He missed

Bad news, recently I had lost some weight and my pants were starting to fall down. 

Worse I didn't have any under pants on.  I manuevered till there was a gas pump between me and him thus preventing a direct charge. Holding my pants up with one hand I said, "Want another kiss punk, come and get it".

About this time he noticed the blood streaming down his face from when I'd split his pumpkin head open.  Realizing he was injured and had crossed swords with the wrong nigger he ran off into the night.

I called the dispatcher who called the police.  When they showed up it turns out he had gone to a nearby bar.  When he got nasty with the police he was arrested.  He went to the hospital then to jail.

Shoulda, known better than to fuck with me.



QWICK CHANGE

Don't blink or you'll miss this one.  Three people get into the cab.  Two in the back, one in the front.  The fare is fifteen dollars.

Some one in the back hands me ten dollars.  The guy in the front takes it and hands me twenty.  I tell him he owes me five dollars more because he has only paid me ten.  He protested but his friend gave me five dollars more and said they would explain it to him later.

What ever it was they were gonna' tell him had to be good becuase the cab driver had twenty five dollars on a fiften dollar fare.



NOT HAPPY CAMPER

I'd just started driving cab in Key West, Fl.  It was around 3:30 A.M. on my fourth day on the job.  I was approaching Duval on Truman when I noticed someone in the lane ahead of me.

Not unusual, often in a desperate attempt to get a cab people will stand in the street, like the guy in Tianaman Sq.  As I got closer I could see he was naked from the waist up.  He had a dog collar on with spikes on it. Next to him on the ground was a bright, shiney, red fire extinguisher.

He did not seem to be...should I say...happy.  Not him.  Not a happy camper for sure.

He's in a Rambo stance, prepared for combat.  His arms are out, his back is arched.  No smile, just a snarl.  I'm thinking, the city ain't gonna' like this.  Looks bad, image etc.  He then throws down the gauntlet and snarls, "go around".

Well ya' know I was new on the job and didn't want any trouble.  Didn't wanna' get fired, so I adapt my best hospitality strategy and say, "sure", and proceed to go around him.

Talk about your moody PMS bastard, he picks up the bright, shiney, red and wacks my hot, pink taxi and breaks the window.  Not good, not good at all.  The company definitely will frown on this. "See what ya' done".  How am I gonna' explain this?

The company supervisor was a tough cookie.  I was in deep shit now.  As I pulled away from the enraged visitor I wondered, where is the supervisor?  Well talk about the devil, up he pops, there he comes around the corner.

About that time a station wagon comes around the another corner.  Mr. enraged vistor (Un-happy with the service, sir?) goes after the station wagon. It spins out of control. I tell the supervisor he broke the window.

The guy runs off, the police show up in force and locate him under a car.  The police make him lie down while they cuff him.  He didn't like that and told them so.  He caused a scene so the police shackled him and threw him into the back of a police car.

You guessed it, he didn't like that either.  Voiced his opinion.  Police voiced theirs.  He was un-happy with the service.  Bigger tip next time stupied.  This has really messed up my night.

We're standing around doing the paper work when another hot pink taxi pulls up.  His passenger gets out and walks out on a dollar fare in front of a crowd of cops.  Stupied and drunk, a real combination. Ever see a key stone cop movie.  The whole crowd takes off after him and apprehends another inebreiated visitor.

Well they got the money out of the guy who then forces a five dollar tip on the driver, who reluctantly accepts it.  Then he gets nasty with the driver and makes a few suggestions on what he can do when he's alone. The police take a dim view of this and explain to him what will happen if he doesn't leave.

The guy in the back seat of the police car takes a dim view of the whole thing and explains his opinion by screaming.  His boyfriend wants to talk to me.  The un-happy camper is really a good guy from my Michigan who has had too much to drink.

Too much in-deed.  Turns out he had stopped the station wagon and asked for the keys.  When he was denied instant gratification he did the drunken tourist stomp on the roof and collapsed it.  The boyfriend was broke and didn't have a motel room key.  KA-CHING, had his tuff luck card punched.  Talk to the supervisor, he stamps it for you.

Well by and by the paper work got done, the circus ended.  I go home for some rest.  Once again amazed by my fellow men but grateful for a good story.  I only lost half a nights work.  This job could be fun but it seems the quality of tourist has deteriorated.



THREE BEARS

Once upon a time there was a poor cab driver and three fat, rich bears.

One night the three bears went for a ride in the driver's cab.  Papa bear sat in the middle, mama on the right and baby bear on the left.

The driver started driving straight ahead and asked them where did they want to go? Mama said go right, papa said go straight ahead and baby bear said turn left.

If the driver turned left papa and baby bear yelled at him.  If he turned right mama and papa bear yelled at him.  If he went straight who said what?

The driver could not win.  No matter which way he turned he was always wrong.  There were always two against him.

Now the driver was a nice enuff guy who only wanted to make enuff for a bowl of soup and a glass of beer.  Not only that it was late and he was tired and didn;t give a damn where they wanted to go as long as they payed the price.

He had played this game before with other fat, rich bears and knew what to do.  The only sensible, intelligent thing he could do.  He pulled over to the curb, stopped the cab, turned off the engine and in a loud, threatening voice said;

"As soon as you guys get your shit together we can get to where were going".

They collectively stared at the driver, then at each other.  They held an election and appointed mama bear as the spokes person.  Who then instructed the driver to turn left.  The driver went left and within ten minutes they were at their destinastion.

Again the driver pulled over to the curb, parked, stopped the engine, turned around and said, O.K. who's going to pay?

They stared at the driver, then at each other.  As could be expected they couldn't agree on who was going to pay.  A big fight broke out.  They tore up the cab then jumped out and ran down a dark alley.

The driver was left standing in the pouring rain with out a penny in his pocket, not to mention the loss of time and gas.

The driver was not a fool.  He wrote a story, drew a picture and sold it and lived happily ever after

T.V. IN THE SKY

When I drove cab at night in L.A. people would give me drugs all the time.

One night I was really zonked out to the far end of Toonerville.  I was rolling on some freeway.  It was a warm, balmy summer night.  Both windows were wide open.  The wind was blowing thru my hair. I thought, how could I ever go back to a desk job?

I was trippin'pretty heavy.  The sky was like this deep, dark velvet.  Stars were like so many diamonds twinkling at me.  It was a dazzling vision, ....but I slowly became aware of a flaw.

In the middle of the sky was a picture with a man in it.  The strange thing was it was "oblong" in shape.

I was really blown away trying to figure out how and why.  I noticed lights moving behind him.  Then he moved.  I was really searching the vast wasteland of my mind for an explanation.

Paranoia reared it's ugly head.  I reasoned it must be some sort of mini T.V.  But why was it there?  What   was going on?  Who was involved?  Was I  in trouble?

Then I realized it was the rear view mirror and the little man was a passenger I had totaly forgoten    about. I looked around hopeing to find a clue as to where I was at.  I was totally lost with a complete stranger who I had forgotten about.

I had to figure out how to weasel out of this without letting on that I was aimlessly driving around in the night without the vaugest idea of where I was going.

I noticed a landmark and figured out I was on the San Diego Freeway, heading south  Probably to Long Beach.

So very causually I turned around and asked, "Where did you say we were going?"

The answer was, Long Beach.

But......it could have gone like this...

Why, did you forget?

No, I just wanted to make sure.

Where do you think were going?

I'm not sure.

Are you stoned and forgot?

Maybe.

Long Beach

Thanx



ROOM 301

America is in trouble.  Talk about stupied.  It's spring break in Key West, Fl.  I'm driving cab at night.

It's four or five a.m.  People are drunk and desperate for a cab.  Three guys flag me in front of the Bull on Duval St.  We're waiting for number four.

Tall and exceedingly ugly, he staggers out of the crowd, does a drunken sprawl on the hood of the cab and spills his drink all over it.  Not a good sign.

Turns out his name is Larson.  I call him, Larson of the great nose.  He gets in the front.  As we pull off someone in the backs hollars at some girls, "Travel Lodge, room 301".

You guessed it we went to the Travel Lodge.  Larson got uglier.  When we got there the creme of america's best jumped out and ran without paying the driver.

I chased them but they got away.  I went to the lobby.  They asked if I had been robbed, I replied, "sorta". They ran out on the fare.  The mgr. said the police were on their way.

I circled around again but saw nothing.  Then I remembered room 301.  Kinda' stupied if you ask me to hollar out your room number then run out on the fare.  Somebody was wasting good money on an education for these guys.  The scary thing is this was America's future.

When the police arrive I suggest we start with (Drum roll in the back ground please)......ROOM 301.

How clever of me.  Suprise, room 301 was wide open.  I step inside briefly with the police then go back outside.

Some guy approaches me and in a tone of self righteous indignation asks if I had just come out of that room. "Yes", I replied.

What were you doing in there.  I'm with the police and they want to talk to you.  His composure collapsed and his attitude made a dramatic adjustment.

Even more so when the police took him inside and closed the door to tell him they were having a bad hair day and one of them was bald so you know they were serious.

When the hotel manager added they could be evicted if he didn't cough up the fare, he whimpered, "You shouldn't have shouted at me".

He paid up, I left.  Wonder what he told his buddies and if they made good the money in Room 301



HOOKERS

Needless to say a night time cab driver deals with a lot of

professional wimmen.  Sooner or later they all admit that they want to, "get out of the life".

I was driving in Myrtle Beach, S.C.  I had been having some hard times and was in a bad mood.  I took a call for a place in Socastee.  It was a young girl.  She took her time coming out.

When she got in the cab she asked how I was.  Moody, I replied.

Must have struck a cord with her because she said so was she.  She readily admited to being a hooker.  She was on her way to turn a trick.

She was depressed.  She had just recently moved back in with her mother and complained it was difficult, "to make it".

She wanted to get out of the life and become a nurse but she was totaly broke and didn't know what else to do.

I took her to Myrtle Beach.  When we got to the location a black guy got out of an SUV and paid the twenty dollar cab fare.  I gave her a card and told her to call me when she was ready to go home.

A couple of hours later she did.  I picked her up.  He gave her another twenty for the fare home.  I asked her how she had done.  Seems he came real fast so there wasn't much to do.

Then she mentioned he had paid her in drugs.  She had some pot, powder, crack and heroin, and lots of it.

She wanted someone to talk to.  I volunteered my services. We found a place to park and started with the pot.  Wasn't long before we started in on the crack.  She was twenty four, well built with amber hair.

At some point I just causally reached over and grabbed a tit.

She said, "watch it".  A couple of hits later I look over and she has pulled up her sweater and exposed her awesome tits. 

It wasn't long before I had her pants down to show off her pretty red panties.  Another hit on the pipe and she had her hand in my pants.  Didn't matter much, I didn't get hard when I smoked crack.

This went on for a couple of hours.  When I sensed there wasn't much more to be had I told her I had to turn the cab in.

The last thing I told her before leaveing was to use the life as a "stepping stone" to a better life and to help herself by helping others.

On the way back to the garage the dispatcher called to ask if she had left a jacket in the cab.  I said, "no".  That was the last I ever saw or heard of her since.

The beat goes on.



QWIK CHANGE

Don't blink or you'll miss this one.

Three people get in the cab, two in the back,

 one in the front.

The fare is fifteen dollars.

Someone in the back gives me ten. 

The guy in the front takes it

and gives me twenty.

I tell him he owes me five dollars

because he only paid me ten.

He protested but his friends gave me five more

and told him they would explain it later.

What ever it was they were gonna' tell him

must have been good,

'cause the cab driver had

twenty five dollars for a fifteen

dollar trip



SWEET SPOT

SWEET SPOT

A lot of the suspicions people have about cab drivers are true.  But the truth be known, people bring it upon themselves.  My cab does not have a meter.  We operate on a zone system.  This allows me to be flexable and set my own fares.

How do I decide how much to charge?  I look at people.  Who are they and where are they going.

do they look like they have money?  Sometimes it's so obvious.

For example, I was driving in a Southern city.  It had a lively cultural scene and a restaurant row.  This night was Paris in the twenties.  A light rain was falling but it wasn't cold just misty. I'm parked in front of the door of a pricey restaurant.

A group of people come out.  They are laffing and talking after finishing their meal.  Because it is raining they decide to take my cab rather than walk the three blocks to a pricey hotel.  Can't under charge these folks.  The correct company fare would have been seven dollars and fifty cents.

It's two men and two women.  One of the men is black.  He sits in the front.  They immediately begin talking about how great the meal was.  The black guy starts talking about how big his piece of meat was.

According to him the guy at the next table was jealous.

Then it was he had been indecisive on what to order, the steak Dianne or a fillet.  He said he was torn  between the Dianne and the fillet. I bet he was, sounded nasty to me.  I'd like to eat Dianne's fillet myself.

At the hotel blackie and the guy in the back started competing to pay.  I was asked, how much ?  I told them seven dollars.  They started going for their money.  I was a little stoned.  I thought well to do people, good restaurant, fine hotel, everybody is full and in a good mood so I said....each.

There was an awkward pause. The black guy said, how about fifteen.  I said;  "You talked me into it you silver tongue devil".  He paid me.  The other guy said, seven dollars per person was highway robbery.  I said, "Ya got a good deal then" and drove away.



HUMOUR

I've told this before.  This works good and gets lot'sa laffs if you do it right.

You go into a bar and hollar, taxi.  Some drunk leans off a stool and ask, "Are you the cab?"

I reply

"No I'm the driver.  The cab is out front. It sent me in to get you.  Let's go".

GETTING OUT

You reach the destination, collect the money.  Then the passenger asks;

How do you get out?

Open the door.

How do you do that?

Use the handle.

Where's it at?

On the door.

Where at on the door?

Somewhere near the center.

If you need more help I'll come

back there and let you out.

PSYCHIC

I pull up in front of a house.  Someone on the porch signals me to wait.

Soon two little boys come out and get in the cab.

I wait to be told where to go.

Finally one of them asks me.  "Did someone call a cab?"

"No, I'm a psychic.  It was just a lucky guess, but now that I'm here and your in the cab, did you want to go somewhere or just sit and talk?' 

ATM

.....here's the anatomy of how thing's work

ATM

It was a busy Saturday night in the market area of Charleston, S.C.  The call was for a restaurant.  The street was one lane only and the traffic was heavy.

The guy was in front and got in the cab.

He wanted to go to an ATM.  The closest one I knew of was something like six blocks away at a bank.  He got out but couldn't get any money out of the ATM.  He got back in and said take him back to the bar.  I said "No", and kicked him out.

Suddenly he was alone, some distance from the bar.  Bet he was suprised and pissed off at me.  Reading this people might feel I was un-reasonable.  Read on.

He already has absorbed time and owes me money.  Do I gamble more time in the hopes of getting paid.  What happens if we go back to the bar.  He gets out and goes in and tells me to wait.  I can't park there so what would I do.  Ride around the block and hope he didn't come out while I was stuck in traffic.  Not seeing me he goes back inside and forgets me.  Now I'm out more time and money.

Another scenario is he desperately needs to take a leak and waits in the line while I'm sitting outside.  When he finally gets out someone offers him a drink and he forgets about me.  I'm sitting outside out money and more and more time when I could be running someone else.

ASSHOLE

ASSHOLE OF THE YEAR

New Year's eve, Charleston, S.C.  I'm cruising on East Bay.  Two guys flag me.  I pass another couple and pull around the corner.  The couple rushes over and jumps in.  The two guys come up and claim it's their cab.  After a short discussion they decide to share the cab.

The couple don't know where they want to go.  They want to go some place before going home.  I suggest Club Tango.  They agree, we take off.  Half way there he decides to let us all know in front of his wife that the reason they are going there is for "pussy".

Well the cab fell silent.  We pull up in front of the club.  The fare is six dollars.  Mr. mouth wants to know if I take credit cards.

I went off on him.  Asshole, you insult  your wife in front of total strangers then have the nerve to expect me to ride around and find an ATM on New Year's eve.  I threw him out and left.



SEX TAXI

.......ever get caught having sex in a car?  As a night time cab driver I've had so much sex in cabs now I only can "get off" in cabs.  Darkened motel rooms..forget it.  If there isn't the added excitment that you might get caught it's just no good.

Now that I'm older, getting the girl, the cab and the Viagra coordinated is a challenge.

This is the story of  one of my closer calls.

EN FLAGRANT

I was a night time cab driver in a small Southern city.  On the edge of town was a sleaze bag titty bar right out of a William Faulkner novel. 

I was tight with the manager.  He lived out by the beach.  After work I'd run him and his girl friend home.  This night the bar maid rode with us.  I'll call her, Missy.  She was young and well built.  She was a little drunk.  When she found out I had a sail boat she got real excited and said she wanted to go sailing.  Even if it was raining I should come for her.

Guess what?  Next day it was raining.  I just imagined her sitting outside waiting in the rain.  I hate to be stood up so I drove out to the beach.

She was no where to be found. I asked somebody to knock on her door.  She didn't come out so I went and knocked on the door.  She came to the door and said "hi" and asked what I was doing there.  Fucking bimbo cunt, what the fuck do you think I'm doing here?  I wrote her off as a flake.  I found out later she was in bed with a woman.

Maybe a year later, it was a hot, sultry summer night.  The radio was slow so I dropped in for a drink.  She came over and sat next to me.  She was all excited about the girl who was dancing. She confessed to being turned on by her.  She then revealed that she swung both ways.  She had lived with a woman for a year but eventually decided she liked younger men.  She needed a ride out to the beach.

She was awful friendly on the ride home.  I sensed an opportunity and reached over and sort'a massaged a tit. She didn't resist. 

She had some coke and suggested we do some lines.  When we got to the beach we found a place to park.

She broke out her stuff and we did some, then got out and looked at the stars.  They were nice but it was cold.  We got back in the cab.  She bet me she could get me hard, I said go a head. (pardon the pun)

I swear, no sooner had she started than a cop came up and shined his light on us.  She got out to talk to him.  It'sa good thing she did.  There was cocaine on the seat, an open container on the floor and a bag of weed in my briefcase.

I don't know what she told him.  He ran a check then cut us loose.  Maybe she promised him a blow job.  What ever it was, it was a good thing because if he found the stuff I'd still be in jail

p.s.  when she got older she got preganant by a much younger man