July 2nd, 2008
“So I’ve got these two women in the back of my cab who just refuse to get out...”3 comments
June 25th, 2008
“My friend’s getting divorced, and he’s really drunk,” says the bartender...8 comments
June 18th, 2008
There’s nothing like a good Friday night, and I’m referring to the money.3 comments
June 11th, 2008
The old man in the karaoke bar’s parking lot insists that he doesn’t need any help...0 comments
June 4th, 2008
“What’re you up to?” asks my dispatcher.6 comments
May 28th, 2008
The middle-aged guy is working on an oil ship...3 comments
May 21st, 2008
“How you doing tonight, man?”3 comments
May 14th, 2008
As I pull into the back parking lot of Spot 79 on Southeast Foster Road...13 comments
May 7th, 2008
I’ve had this stooped old alcoholic once before.6 comments
April 30th, 2008
When I call out to the Emanuel E.R.’s waiting room for my fare...13 comments
[June 29th, 2005] "You're playing my girl!" It was 3:30 am, and this was my last passenger of the night. I always save favorite CDs for the last hour, so I was listening to Dahlia. My passenger simply could not believe this, as he said repeatedly. "Do you know Jennifer?" he asked. I said that I did not, beyond having her in my cab a couple of times. "This is my girl!" He then told me that the two of them dated, and proceeded to list all the ways in which she is wonderful, all the way to our destination. The image of Dahlia's Jennifer Folker singing in a Hawaiian cave, with the sun streaming down through a fissure in the roof, her voice ringing off the rocks, will stay with me for a long time.
Now it's 10 pm three weeks later, and I'm picking up two girls at Colosso. And lo and behold, one of them is Jennifer. I tell her about picking up her ex. "Oh, wow, I'm so happy that you got to tell me that story!" She tells me what a great guy he is, a bit about what's going on in New York, that she's happy.
By the time we get to Sabala's, she and her friend are doing the cab-ride calculus that determines if you can still drink after paying for your ride, with enough left for a cab home. I tell them it's on me. "Are you sure?" Absolutely, I say.
That story may have made her happy, but the show she and Keith Schreiner recently did at the Doug Fir made me even happier. I miss Dahlia.
Story continues below
advertisement
commiseration
Girly, I drove a cab for one summer in Boston. I was bad at it. One night, after having leased my cab for a twelve hour shift, I returned the cab, paid for gasoline, paid for a cab home, bought an entemens and quart of milk for breakfast, and had five bucks left. The good part? The whackos. Very entertaining. The bad part? Rotten money, a sore backside, bad nutrition, and a very bizarre sense of self after three months of getting to know Boston's less attractive neighborhoods at night. My hat is off to you. If I get your cab one night, I'll tip well.
—David Millstone
Re: "You're playing my girl!"
i miss Dahlia too!!! But they are playing New Years 2005!!! Yeah!!
—mobilegroupie
Great Column
I love reading this column every week. It would seem odd, for being such a small blurb when one could write several articles, but I really look forward to reading them. Always wonderful.
—Brian Lukrich