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
April 23rd, 2008
“No, really, I believe you,” I tell the old man.17 comments
April 16th, 2008
“Vote Ron Paul? Who’s that, Sean Paul’s cousin?”15 comments
April 9th, 2008
The young woman leans forward...7 comments
April 2nd, 2008
I ask the two guys if there's going to be a problem with the payment... | [CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEK] 20 comments
March 26th, 2008
For the first time ever, I flip the panic switch. 11 comments
March 19th, 2008
It’s raining so hard the water kicked up by my tires makes a slapping sound...5 comments
March 5th, 2008
I’m thankful when I turn on the ignition that I’ve been listening to blues tonight6 comments
[March 12th, 2008]
I pick up the two teenagers in inner Southeast at 5:30 on a Sunday morning and instantly like them, if only because they remind me so much of myself at the same age: stoned and out way too late without permission.
They’re both recent immigrants from Ethiopia, and the more sophisticated kid, with cornrows and a gold chain, is trying to explain to his chubby friend that he has to stop worrying about proper enunciation and grammar, and should instead try to sound the way people actually talk. Thus “do you know what I am saying?” is actually incorrect, while something that sounds like “gnome sane?” hits the mark.
The disbelieving chubby kid calls me in for an expert opinion, and I weigh in on his buddy’s side. The three of us spend the rest of the trip laughing and talking in the most preposterous accents we can come up with, until the kid with cornrows tells me to pull over, we’re there.
I do so, and he’s immediately out the door and running. His bewildered friend also gets out, and begins to slowly wander off without paying.
“Hey man, come on, I don’t want to have to call the cops.”
The kid looks startled. “No police arrest!” he keeps repeating.
“I don’t want to deal with police arrest either—you got any cash at all?”
He’s got eight bucks, and I’m not going to sweat the fact that the meter says 13. He even sticks his arm out to shake hands.
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Your two buddies ought to be deported for drug possession. You have to agree to obey our laws if you want to stay here. They have already proven themselves incapable of that.
Wait until they turn to crime to support their habits; Robbing cabbies maybe..
You should have driven them to the nearest ICE office.
Always, always get the money up front from teenagers, black, white, whatever. This driver with that thick French accent many Africans have told me this great story once about holding down some fucker by the *ear* to get his money, all the while reminding him that he was not his "brother" !!!
Nice, recent immigrants who are drug abusers and thieves. Who will the next victim be?
NC got cheated out of five bucks. My question is, was it worth five bucks to meet a couple of fascinating dudes with an entirely different moral cosmology and vocabulary? Look, this is what I'd call a five-dollar story; I'd pay that much to ride in the cab and watch it all happen. Rating this one five stars for a cool ride, an interlude with two Ethiopian dudes, a not-so-jah crime, and a taste of redemption. In how many words?
I know, I know. I think that this actually might have been my first encounter with teenage boys that weren't travelling on a charge account. Don't run into very many of them working nights.
And when did teen-agers smoking weed and running on cab drivers merit harping on the evils of immigration? Should we throw your cracker-ass kids out of the country for the same offenses? Because really, teen-agers are going to do stupid shit like this no matter where in the world they happen to be -- I certainly did. It's times like these where I wonder what the world would be like if the Sioux, Cherokee, Iroquis et al departments of Homeland Security and Immigration and Customs Enforcement had done better jobs.
In other news, I'm back working nights if any of you have been keeping score. So now you'll mostly get fresh stories, rather than year-old ones (though I do still have some of my best ones from the past in reserve). Also, I'm changing my approach to the column almost completely. I feel like I've gotten everything I wanted to out of the direction of the past almost-a-year. What this means in terms of the actual finished product you read is probably very little.
my heart is bleeding. let me light a candle. call the cops, get them arrested and pay their dues. i bet they were here illegally. i wish the american people would wake up and smell the coffee. just another handout to criminals who belong in handcuffs. sorry liberals
My Irish ancestors came here illegally, fleeing from British landowners who were missing a few pigs and whose informants had patellar gunshot wounds. My Danish half snuck in from Canada, about the time they were passing laws to keep Scandanavian squareheads out.
Sorry, just me.
worth the $5 for the experience IMHO
I've got to stop reading comments.
i hate criminals. this raises an ancient question: is it chaper to build more prisons than to fix a teenager, especially with bad parents?
Typical, Typical