Archive for March, 2011


DK’s NYC Taxi Cab Chronicles (No Homo? All Homo.)


Last night had the feel of being inauspicious.  It was damn near 80 degrees earlier in the day, then I had to deal with a 3-car accident that backed traffic up for miles, and there was a full moon.  Nevertheless, the night wasn’t starting out too badly.

I dropped this group of three off on Bowery between Bond and 3rd street whom were most likely going to Bowery Electric and this guy hops in the cab.  He whispers in a girly voice “141st street…and 7th avenue.”  Alright fine, no problem…although having to go that far uptown fuckin sucks.  I plug it into the GPS to see what direction is best and it actually tells me to go east on Houston to the FDR.

Next thing I know though this dude appears hypnotized and begins staring at me for hella long.  I have no idea why and I figured it’d come to pass…but then he does something I’ve never before witnessed in my cab.  He is reaching his arm out and is caressing the fuck out of my shotgun seat.  Havin some kind of dark twisted fantasy I suppose.  His hand is squeezing the headrest, then he rubs the chair, hitting it a couple times and this perturbs me a bit.  Then he takes that same hand and starts touching my shoulder.  WHOA SON WHOA.  I ask him what he’s doing and he stops without saying a word…but he’s still staring this hole through me.  Now I’m hella fuckin concerned, as this is gonna be an issue.  Now not only am I gonna have to pay attention to the road, but I have a faggot psycho and Lord knows what kinda stunt(s) he may pull off.

Now mind you, my new cab partner tends to leave the door half-closed and I had it at around that.  I was scared that if I tried to close the door completely he may go off; and there was no way I was gonna even give it an attempt because he may block it (as you figure…he of course tried pushing the door fully open).  Nothing happens for a while until I get around 135th and Madison…where he gets back in that catatonic zone.  He starts moaning as he’s staring at me and is back to that damn chair caressing.  I guess he had passed out for a little bit but this dude was fuckin obsessed, B.  He reaches over to try and caress my shoulder again and that shit wasn’t happening.  A minute later though as I make the turn up onto 7th avenue, he leans back and STICKS HIS FOOT OVER THE PARTITION TO TRY AND CARESS MY FACE WITH HIS FUCKIN FOOT!  YOU THINK I HAVE A FOOT FETISH???  Lord help me please.  He was like 5’5 and with the partition half-closed his fuckin foot couldn’t reach me but the flexing AHHHH!  I ask him what the hell is his problem and he continues his fuckin antics until I pull over and tell him we’re here.  He just keeps staring at me then intermittenly passing out.  This ain’t cool.

“Yo…we here, last stop man.”  No response.  This game of cat and mouse goes on for about ten minutes.  I’m not sure how drunk he is up to this point but mercy.  I start gettin annoyed as fuck though and call the cops.  This apparently seems to work as he finally makes his way to open the door and gets ready to exit.  Honestly, even though the fare was $26.30 he had me so mentally disturbed at this point that I didn’t even care if he paid…I just wanted to move on.  I get off the phone with 911 because it looked like he was gonna get out.  The second I hang up though, he closes the door, gives me this devilish grin and continues to look at me.  REALLY THOUGH?

I call 911 a second time and I have to give them details, etc.  They showed up fairly quickly, in two cars.  Why would I call the cops you ask?  You don’t wanna put yourself in a situation where you may get attacked or worse, they pull some stunt and try to drive off with your cab.  This happened to a cab driver not that long ago.  They ask the guy if he knows that he’s here at his stop and he looks somewhat confused.  They tell him he gotta pay what he owe, which is the $26 and he has the nerve to ask why?  WHY?  You hopped in the motherfucker.  He takes FOREVER to reach into his wallet and find the money.  He gives me $31 and asks for a dollar back.  Idiot, how you gonna give me the dollar and want it back though?  He beams and says thank you…but takes about a minute or so to get out the cab.  The cops, like myself are hella frustrated.  One of them keeps saying this is BS and I felt him; but you gotta do what you do.  I thank them and the fag gets out the cab and gives one of the cops the finger.  No, not the penis but the finger.  They corral him and tell him to go the fuck home.  I sped off, traumatized as all hell.

Then of course you had the Penn Station-East New York trip where they tip a dollar on the credit card on a $33 fare.  Cats were waiting on a hella long line for the drop on some kicks.  Lord knows what they were.  Maybe if they posed sneakers as library books we’d be aight.  But whatever.  And so on.