21
Mar
10

DK’s Taxi Cab Chronicles (from 3/20/10).

Before I continue with the tales of cabbie appreciation weekend…I’d like to forewarn yall that beginning Monday March 22nd I will no longer be posting my tales on the R-Block Blotter. The new webpage will be https://thebrokenmeter.wordpress.com (though I’ll be getting rid of the “.wordpress” ish. For my faithful followers who read it through my Facebook RSS feed you’ll still get the links posted onto my Facebook page.

I got off to an inauspicious start to my day at the airport. I decided to walk around for quite a bit thinking that the lines weren’t moving all that quickly. Come to find out by the time I get to my senses..my cab is the only one on my line and about 5 or so lines had already left. FUUUUCKKKK ha. But I had a good feeling about the trip I was gonna get and lo and behold…I get this blonde chick headin into Manhattan. $56.25 after tip thank goodness.

The only person to briefly piss me off today was this simple hybrid DMX/Cam’ron lookin nigga around Broadway and 33rd street. He was in front of me & I guess he was trying to back up into a parking space so I did what I had to do and tried moving to my left. For some reason though this fucker punches my side window and starts bitchin. I can’t hear a word he’s saying but he’s givin me the TO crying face. I snarled at him because I knew for a fact that if I was driving a private car you wouldn’t dare touch the vehicle. What makes the fact I’m drivin a cab different?

My passengers of the day: This group of 5 that crams into my cab around Church & Walker street after I dropped off a pretty blonde (more on her later in the chronicle). A chick gets in the front this time (she did have a ring on it tho damn ha) and almost immediately she tells me I got some nice tunes on which I appreciate. Thank DJ Big Ben 12-4 Saturday Nights Hot 97. We kick it briefly talkin about she lives in DC and I’m a native. “Concrete jungle where dreams are made of!” Yes…there’s nothin you can’t do. Anyway, they work for the NY Red Bulls & had went to the game at the new stadium and were continuing their bar hopping for the night. She exclaims that I’m the coolest cab driver she ever encountered. What I do?? A guy that was in the back gives me a $20 and tells me TO KEEP IT ALL. The fare was $7.30. I love you (no homo).

Right after them (I’m now on Greenwich Ave & Perry Street at a place called Fiddlesticks…DON’T ASK) I pick up these older ladies most likely in their 40s heading back to their hotel on 49th and Lexington. I engage in a typical conversation about how I have the most stressful job in America and how I’m able to keep my cool. “You don’t let anything get to you it seems like.” I appreciate the compliment but the nigga moments I’ve envisioned in my head are countless. They ask me where’s the best slice of pizza in town. I tell them that they haven’t lived until they try Artichoke Pizza (14th between 1st and 2nd aves). Intriguingly enough one of them went to West Virginia and the other one went to Pittsburgh for college. They’re best friends…but that’s one thing they’ll never agree on. West Virginians burn couches. I once again get called the coolest cab driver. Is this a trend?

I picked up these four broads around Gold Street who head to 21st and Broadway to some club. “Get on the FDR” I KNOW THAT YOU DIMWIT. What came out of my mouth though was “that was the plan all along”. Because Hot 97 kept playing commercials I decided to put on 92.3 NOW. Ahh a Saturday Night Dance Mix this should be good. They tell me to put the volume up to the sounds of the Dush Dush Dush and one of the girls does her hands up fist pump. I get my fistpump on too. You hear the broads goin “woooooooo!” What other cab driver do you know who fistpumps while driving? I can’t even have a bluetooth so why not.

As I’ve mentioned before some people buck stereotypes. This African-American family gets in my cab as I’m about to get the eff out of the Brooklyn Heights area to get back on the bridge. They take me to some random ass area…Throop Street and I forgot the cross street but I was not exactly somewhere where I wanted to be. Live in Bedford-Stuyvasant. After being directed by the mother their cab fare came out to about $10. But they tipped $2 and the dude even directed me on how to get back on the Williamsburg Bridge. And he dapped me. Black people love me again. I had to flip the off-duty light on though because I had no desire to stay within Brooklyn & I needed food so I went to the Mickey D’s on Marcy. Hoodness gracious.

I get back into Manhattan and I pick up this Spanish woman. How she hailed the cab like she was waving a blanket to place back on my bed wasn’t even the worst part…she is chompin down on her KFC meal and the aroma is gettin all up in my nose. Fuck, I’m not tryna get hungry again. She asks if I want some…I don’t know where your hands have been and are you asking me because I love chicken? I don’t even eat KFC though so no thank you. She tells me to get to 16th between 7th and 8th avenue. “You have to take 8th avenue up to 16th then make a right.” I TOOK A FUCKIN GEOGRAPHY TEST AND WHO IS THE DRIVER?? WHO IS THE PASSENGER?? I KNOW THIS ALREADY!!! One of these days I might snap on a customer & tell them to drive themselves up somewhere if they really know how to. Until then however.

I pick up this family of 3 around Lincoln Center and they’re headin to Lower Manhattan (this is right before the fistpumpers). They wanted to stop off at a wine shop (random) and then I had to head all. the. way. downtown. “Make a left on John Street please” THERE IS A ONE WAY POINTING LEFT ON JOHN STREET. Their fare came out to about $20 and I get $1 tip for my efforts. Holla.

DK’s Bordello continues with this dude and seemingly his girlfriend getting in my cab trying to get to the west side. Next thing I know I’m lookin at my mirror and these muh fuhs are on some Young & The Restless soap opera type makeout scene where he’s kissin her neck then she takes her arm around his head. And dahhhhh, eeeeeahhhhh. Ick. Then I see the chick’s head disappear for a couple minutes. I hope this is not what I’m thinkin…and to be frank I really didn’t want to know. It didn’t happen, though. The broad kicks back & lays her damn feet on the top of one of my seats. Where’s my Lysol? Their $13.50 ride gets rewarded with a $1 tip get the fuck out my cab.

This Punjabi MC assclown on 6th avenue is on the 2nd lane to the left and somehow someway…he decides to cut ALL THE WAY across the avenue to cut me off and pick up this couple. Really? REALLY?? Do you realize that that avenue has people BEGGING to be picked up and to do all of that to prevent me from pickin up a passenger was not needed. I’m glad he did though…because the next passenger I picked up was a chill dude tryin to go back to the east side. He goes on a spiel about his girlfriend (I can smell the weed on him all day ha) and how she’s hella overprotective..needing to know like a week in advance when he’s going out, etc. He asks me how he should approach it. I’m no relationship guru…my longest relationship is 6 months (but only 4.5 months really counted) but I’m guessin the best thing you do is talk it out & get to the root of the problem. Maybe she has trust issues? Maybe she’s scared of the future of the relationship since things seemingly are goin really well right now? I don’t know. But he appreciates my advice. I get a $4 tip from him.

This blonde chick gets in my cab around 8th and 32st street and tells me that “I have to go downtown but let me get out my phone so I can tell you exactly where.” Fair enough. She got one of those Blackberry Storm phones & she immediately trashes it. I get confused though when she tells me that she doesn’t like the trackball but she likes to be simple. There ain’t nothin simple about a touchscreen sweetheart ha. She loves the fact that I’m a New York native and she tells me she was born & raised here also. We fist pound. We then converse about running away from home episodes which I thought was hella random yet intriguing. She mentions the word boyfriend. 10 second buzzkill ha. Apparently she had went to this concert at the Garden, I do NOT remember this guy’s name but he’s supposedly this modern-era Frank Sinatra. At the end of the ride “will you get mad at me if I pay credit card, because I’ve been yelled at before.” Ha, I don’t give a fuck how you pay me..never will. She shakes my hand upon leavin the cab. Damn I’m good.

These ppl in another cab yell towards my cab which scared the shit out of me ha…then ask if I’m the cash cab. Do I look like an effin cash cab ha? I can see why they asked I suppose, since my music was blastin.

I copped this girl’s name yesterday…her name is JD and she works at B-Bar. I picked her up around there in that ruckus & I’m droppin her off back in Williamsburg. We get into an engaging convo about how bridge & tunnel nights are the devil and that while they’re not shy about spendin $13 on shots of Patron there…that she’ll only get $4 tip out of say someone spendin for 7 shots of it. Hella hella nice chick from the ROCK upstate. We agree that native New Yorkers are friendlier than out-of-towners who try too hard to adapt to our lifestyle & simply brag about being a “New Yorker” SIT YOUR ASS DOWN. She gives me $20 on a $13 ride. Next time I go to B-Bar I will return the favor.

These rich kids who I seriously doubt were even 18 get in my cab and go from Lexington & 39th by the W Hotel ALL THE WAY TO Ocean Parkway in Midwood I believe it is? They were pretty boring. When I pull up to Avenue T though, I’m pullin up next to a couple Benzes and a Bentley. No Beemers sorry. What. The. Fuck. Their cab ride was $35+tip= $41. “Do you have change for a $100?” Yall muh fuhs roll like that?? Yes I do but god damn.

“Crank it (Fabolous) the fuck up”- This white dude goin to St. Vincent’s Hospital to go work. I was in tears for about 20 seconds.

My final passneger of the day was an African-American male who wanted to take me back to Brooklyn (St. Marks Avenue and Classon Ave). Sheeit, Bed-Stuy again…my stompin grounds I see. He tipped decently and whatnot which I was once again surprised about. Bed-Stuy at 3am is bad news. That off-duty light is my best friend although:
-Another Punjabi MC dude was trying to pull off and had his off-duty light on…but this Spanish broad is tryin hella hard to open the doors that he had locked. He VERY RELUCTANTLY lets her in and I think she is cussin him the fuck out ha. I was dyin. I feel Punjabi MC I really do…but hey that was one bad bitch.

Poll Question of the Day: What is more important to you? A smooth ride, even if it’s a little slower…or a ride where the cabbie is swervin all over…but you get to your destination quicker?

And so on.

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