17
Sep
11

The Freaks Come Out At Night.

But you already knew that.

Last night wasn’t the best night for me I’ll tell you that.  The penny-pinching populace was definitely in the building, with their $1 credit card tips out in full force.  I decided to dedicate my sign in the cab last night to the death of air conditioning requests.  I’m so glad temperatures have dropped so I don’t have to deal with turning it on anymore.  This dude (who wound up tipping me $1.50 on a $17.50 fare anyway so he’s useless) questioned my sign.  He told me that people feel “more taken care of” when the AC is on.  That’s fine…when it’s actually warm out, not when it’s 70 degrees.  Shit, anytime I have clowns tell me to turn my music up and I’m “taking care of them”, it’s almost always a $1 tip.  Fuck outta here.

Some broad flipped me off after I shook my head that my cab was NOT free.  For some reason, she felt that I had pulled over to the side…but in reality, I was only trying to get onto the left lane to turn off of 1st avenue.  I told her to shove her finger up her pussy (which would likely be her only action of the night) in which she promptly told me to fuck off.  Mission accomplished.

Brooklyn held me down more than Manhattan did yesterday…which is expected as long as your trip doesn’t originate from Williamsburg.

There’s nothing more entertaining than watching people hop out of a cab without paying…and then the driver of said cab getting out and demanding that they pay or he’ll call the police.  Since you can’t physically assault your passenger or you lose your license, it’s almost always shoving matches.  I don’t blame the driver in this particular situation because traffic around Little Italy was an absolute disaster (and will be for the next couple of weeks with the San Gennaro festival going on).

But anyway, around 330am I was up on 6th avenue and 54th street where I dropped someone off by the Warwick Hotel.  It was straight, there was an accident involving a cab driver and some random dude, so that slowed shit down.  I pick up this guy around 55th and he wants to head downtown to EVill.

Him: Do you know where Blue Door is?
Me: What?
Him: Blue Door…it’s a video store that sells porn.
DK’s Brain: oh?
Me: No. Honestly the only stores I know that do are one on 14th street and some down by the West 4th area.
Him: It’s on 1st between 1st and 2nd.  You can take me there right?
DK’s Brain: You’re in my cab already dummy.
Me: Obviously, you go wherever you want…although you should look it up to make sure you have the right address.
Him: I’m gonna do that right now.  I wanna get naughty…you know what I’m saying?
DK’s Brain: Who asks these things?
Me: Umm…I suppose so?  Hopefully by yourself…or something.
(awkward silence)
DK’s Brain: What kinda man tells another man that he wants to get naughty though?
(somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue)

I have taken someone to a porn store once before, but at least that guy was MUCH more discreet about it.  For you horn dogs, Blue Door is on 1st between 5th and 6th streets from what I found out.  Now it’s time for him to pay.

Him: How much is it baby?
DK’s Brain: WHAT?
Me: $11.10 sir.
Him: Thank you baby. (tries sliding his credit card)
Me: Umm…you gotta hit the credit card option, put in tip, etc.
Him: Anything for you baby.
DK’s Brain: What have I gotten myself into?
Me: You’re doing this all wrong.
(he doesn’t leave me a tip, and he keeps swiping the card all wrong so I had to swipe it for him.  at a distance of course)
Him: You’re straight, right?
Me:  You know it.
Him: That’s unfortunate…you’re very cute.
DK’s Brain: HOW CAN YOU RESPOND TO SOMETHING LIKE THAT??
Me: ……thanks? I guess.

At least he didn’t try fondling me nor trying to caress my face with his foot, much less touch me.  But these fellas are gettin more vulgar by the day…like they’re tryin to recruit or somethin.  And so on.

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