Start Here
By taxihack
I come from a professional background; I was formerly a web designer, graphic artist, and marketing director for small company in the livestock industry. Long story short, after six or seven years over which sales quadrupled, I caught the owner of the company red-handed trying to steal from me. After that, things were very awkward, and I ended up leaving.
So after that event, in conjunction with the birth of my first child and a very poorly-timed tanking of the economy, I now find myself driving a taxi to put strained carrots and Cheerios on the table. I work in a Florida beach town in a touristy area. My prospects for returning to web and marketing work look very good at the moment, and with luck, I’ll be out of the taxi soon. But this post marks roughly my one-year anniversary of driving a taxi, and since my second or third week of doing this, my hunnee has told me that I should be blogging this.
So, one year later, here we go. What are my thoughts about driving a taxi?
To be blunt, this job is lowering my opinion of my fellow man.
Before I took this job, I thought I knew who gets into a taxi. As it turns out, I didn’t have a clue. Three outta ten, maybe four outta ten people that get in a taxi are nice, normal, decent, intelligent, next door, everyday, garden-variety, ya seen one ya seen ‘em all kinda people. The other six or seven are just un-fucking-believable. Just a never-ending parade of obnoxious drunks and belligerent whores… dealers, dancers, DUI’s, defectives, degenerates, dumbasses, dipshits, douchebags, and devotees of modern chemistry.
My hunnee wakes up every morning, pours a cup of coffee, rubs her hands together excitedly and asks, “So what happened tonite? Give me the stories.”
And every morning, I have something for her. Without fail, someone will get in my car every single nite that makes me want to say them, “What series of unfortunate events and chain of poor decisions in your life led you to this moment, here in the back seat of my car and in such a terrible condition?”
At least two or three times a month, someone will say to me, “Have you ever seen that show Taxicab Confessions?”
And my reply to them is yes, I’ve seen them all, back when they premiered. But the problem with that show is that in spite of the showcase of crossdressers and bulldykes and strippers and junkies, they don’t show you the REAL freaks and the zombie drunks. That TV show is just a typical Friday for me, except with more wasted people. I told my dispatcher not too long ago that when I started this job, I thought he was intentionally steering me the freaks to see if the new guy could cut it, but then I realized that the people I pick up on my own in front of bars are just as freaky as the people he dispatches me to get.
So I plan to regale you with sad and twisted tales about the crazies, weirdos, drunks, and whores I pick up on a nightly basis. Like I said, I’ve only been driving a taxi for a year… I’m not some grizzled 20 year veteran, but in my brief time here, I’ve got some stories… and more will undoubtedly come the next time I punch in.
O.M.G
Laughing so hard i was crying
Dude – I got a link to you site with the “Let’s Advance the Discussion” post – and kept reading. I gotta tell ya – you are a positive genius! The “Stop Being Black” post is so good I’m making my grandkids read it – because it ain’t only applicable to da hood. Have pride and respect for yourself, and do something to make yerself better –
You got it spot on.
ANd the other stories – like Halloween Night – Oh, man… I used to drive the Admiral Wilson Blvd home on college nights (worked during the day, went to school at night in Philadelphia) – that was hookers row in the day. The outfits – you got it EXACTLY right!! I was afraid of getting an STD by being in the same time zone…
Brings back a lot of laughs…
Stay Safe out there!!!
just had to sign in since I’ve been lurking so long
Dude, you have 3 or 4 ebooks right here, in these reports from the front, seeing every night what the majority pretends isn’t happening. How the descent is accelerating. It’s like a Rimbaud or Route 66 for the 21st Century. If even the idea strikes you as vomit-worthy, then just bite the bullet, go ahead and download it in sections to Amazon, and use the proceeds to set up post-collapse shelters for the innocent a few months or years down the road. First though, relocate to the Caribbean. LOL
love your stuff!
Saved this website to my DESKTOP, right alongside Drudge, Legal Insurrection, Ace, Treehouse, Black Five, et. al.
You are truly a genius at observing the human condition. And like many of us, I’ll bet you find yourself abhorring humans as a group, while loving and cherishing those rare individuals we run across in the compost pile of the world.
Oh, the dichotomy of life…
I second the idea of you putting the stories of your encounters with the dregs of the cesspool of modern society into book form. I found you through another site today (it will remain anonymous in order to keep the NSA assholes guessing) and I’m pissed that I’ve missed reading your brilliantly crafted stories since you started posting them a few years ago. I’ve got you bookmarked now, so don’t make me come over to your house and puke on your taxi’s back seat for not posting regularly. 😉
PS: I’m also in FL and would be one of your “PC’s”, should I ever need a taxi within your AORRR. (Area of Rejects, Reprobates & Retards)
Got you book marked. I think you have a never ending source for your funny’s and thank you for sharing them with us. It takes a bunch to make people laugh in these trying times.
Looking forward to your next article.
Saw a reference to your blog on American Thinker. I really, really enjoy your blog. I have sent it to several of my friends. Thank you.
Where ya been? I am in desperate need of your thinking. We all are.
I was hoping for something more than the “Jason” entry.
I stumbled onto your wonderful pages and it brings back memories. In the mid ’70s, I drove a Checker cab for a few months to make ends meet in Topeka, Ks. Late summer to after the snow melted the next year. Never had a single problem with my fares – a blind piano tuner who appreciated me putting down a wool blanket that I kept in the trunk for his German Shepard guide dog. The dog was sometimes wet, but I never complained.
There was one gal with four kids who was a regular. She wanted a ride to and from the laundromat. I thought it strange because there was a brand new Cadillac parked in the driveway. One day I asked about the Caddy and she said that they couldn’t afford the insurance or gas, but it sure looked fine.
Also, there were the numerous batshit crazy outpatients from the world-famous Menninger Psychiatric Hospital – where the guys wanted to go to the tittie bars and massage parlors and the women were… dick breaking horny. That Checker had a cavernous interior.
Oh yes, the stoners and strippers that always wanted to barter because they didn’t have the cash. The Thai-stick daughter of a mortician that introduced me to Ozium and wanted to set in my lap and drive the cab. That Checker had more than enough leg-room for those pole dancing ladies to give me a naked lap dance while driving the dark backroads to their next show. Looking back on it, I was much too easy. Undecided, non-committal, no direction in life. I was happy just to turn up Harry Chapin on the radio and think about what the song “Taxi” had to do with me.
Keep up the fine work.
Missed you at Hot Air buddy…they Face Booked the place!
Just checking in to see what you’ve been posting since I bailed out of Hot Air. Keep working on the Book!