26
Apr
11

I Got An American Cab Driver!!!

There are approximately 48,000 people with taxi licenses in the city.  A vast majority of them weren’t originally born in the U.S.  Common knowledge I understand.  Hell, even when I get into cabs it’s almost a guarantee that it won’t be a fellow American, much less a New Yorker.  Nevertheless, I always get a kick out of people who bug out because I don’t have an international accent.

A couple of Saturday nights ago (the night before Palm Sunday), I’m cruisin down 2nd avenue around 9th street where I see this buxom of a white chick lookin for a cab.  She looks flustered because I think a cab had just refused her service.  I pick her up:
Her: Don’t kill me but I’m goin to Brooklyn.
DK’s Brain: Shit, traffic nightmares.
Me: Yeah that’s fine.  Where at tho?
Her: Carroll Gardens…
Me: Word let’s do this.
Her: WAIT WAIT…YOU SPEAK ENGLISH AND DON’T HAVE AN ACCENT????
Me: Umm..yeah.
DK’s Brain: WTF
Her: OH. MY. GOD NO WAY!! THIS SHIT IS SO REAL RIGHT NOW!!  CAN I SIT UP FRONT WITH YOU???
DK’s Brain:  Jackpot.
Me: Obviously.

This is only the 2nd time I’ve actually had a girl voluntarily sit up front with me so I found this hella intriguing.  Plus she was lookin good; I mean she had that Aubrey O’Day look (but she’s brunette), told me she loves black guys and flaunted her thickness.  What more do I need?  She screams out the window a few times about how she has an American cab driver and how real this shit is.  I know I’m not fake ha.  I was crackin up the entire time because I didn’t realize the significance of her monumental event.  She tells me that she likes to bother white people.  I concur with her ha.

Her looking at my satellite radio presets: Is this SADE?
DK’s Brain: If I were only a smooth operator.
Me: HAAAAAA no SHADE 45.  It’s a rap station.

She comments on my work attire which is a hoodie and fleece pants and how I just be chillin.  Obviously, it’s not like I gotta wear a tuxedo.  We chat it up a bit more, primarily about television shows and our blogging.  We exchange info and I actually did hit her up a couple of days later.  Of course, it’s my luck that she has a boyfriend but hey…she’s still chill.   That was an ego-booster of a trip and the rest of my night went hella fuckin smooth.  Considering the night before I was all out of whack, this was much needed.

NYC Taxis: the only cars where you can actually post up, pick up ladies and THEY pay you to take em home.  Love it.  And so on.

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