NIGHT CABBIE
The old man in the karaoke bar’s parking lot insists that he doesn’t need any help as he hobbles toward the cab, leaning against his cane. “I’m what they call a partial quadrip ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
“What’re you up to?” asks my dispatcher. “Just living it up out here in Beaverton.” “You want to pick someone up at the Shell station?” The honest answer is ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
The middle-aged guy is working on an oil ship, and trying to sell his house in Washington. He wants to tell me about his house. He once put a sign in his yard: two interlocking hearts, “wife wan ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
“How you doing tonight, man?” I ask my fare, a bartender at one of the hipster establishments in the gentrified part of Northeast Portland. “I am fan-tastic,” he says, stressin ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
As I pull into the back parking lot of Spot 79 on Southeast Foster Road, I notice a gnomish figure huddled against the rain, pot-bellied and furtively smoking a cigarette. My passenger’s already ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
I’ve had this stooped old alcoholic once before. He did a header in the Safeway parking lot—falling down drunk at 6 pm on a Tuesday. There’s a bouncer thankfully helping him out of t ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
When I call out to the Emanuel E.R.’s waiting room for my fare, a meek “that’s me” emanates from the corner behind me. I look over to see a little old lady, with one arm in a s ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
“No, really, I believe you,” I tell the old man. We’re parked in front of his home. He occupied the ride here with a hostile soliloquy about what a huge asshole he is, how he’s ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
“Vote Ron Paul? Who’s that, Sean Paul’s cousin?” The two other young guys and I laugh. Ahead of us is a yellowing old Mercedes sedan with the phrase in question written on its ...
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NIGHT CABBIE
The young woman leans forward between the two front seats and turns her head toward me to speak. Each breath against my neck sends chills down my spine.
She's telling me about how she hates her fri ...
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