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4play See other 4play Articles Title: Turtle's Taxi Tales The Booger Kid Years ago, when I drove a taxi, I used to pick up this five-year-old Special Ed boy. He was the most handsome kid I had ever seen in my life, like Errol Flynn handsome, only five and a little slow. When people saw him they'd get big smiles on their faces and say, "Is he yours?" For some bizarre reason, his mother was a catastrophe. Imagine Betty Friedan giving birth to Brad Pitt. It just boggles the mind. He was a funny kid, but whenever I turned away from him he'd rip a booger out of his nose and put it on the passenger window. He was an expert and did it in one second. No matter how many times I yelled at him (how could I tell his mother something like that?) he'd still do it. I still wonder if he ever did it at home. The Transvestite and the High Heels One early evening while heading home I stopped at a light and heard from the sidewalk, "Oh, yoohoo, Mr. Cab Driver, can you give me a ride?" When I turned my head I found myself looking at a six-foot-tall transvestite, one with a mustache. I beckoned him/it over, he hobbled over on his high-heels, got in the car, starting fanning himself with his hand, and said in a falsetto voice, "Thank God you picked me up! Who knows what these men out there would do to a poor little girl!" Fortunately I was able to keep a straight face, took it (who I had immediately named "Neil and Bob") home, then took myself home. The Dizzy Guy I once picked up a young guy, about 25 years old, who when he got into the car immediately tilted over at about a 45-degree angle. He didn't give me a chance to ask the problem; when he was in the Army he was too close to some sort of noise-maker that was supposed to simulate an explosion, and it damaged one of his inner ears. Occasionally he would have these dizzy attacks and have to tilt to not get sick. He said the Army kept putting off the operation it owned him, saying he didn't really need it. Even though I was taking him to the hospital. He said sooner or later they would give in and fix the problem. Haven't seen him since that day, so I hope the problem was fixed. Passed Out Drunk Girl Once, late at night I was sitting outside a popular bar waiting for people looking for a taxi. A very drunk and pretty dang ugly young woman staggered up to me looking for a ride. It turned out her date had left her there, and no wonder. Only she was about 30 miles from home. So, I gave her a ride. On the way there, she passed out cold in the back seat. When I got her home I had a really hard time waking her up. It also turned out she had no money, but since she lived with her parents her mom paid for the ride. I had to support her to her door, because she was staggering drunk, Made about $35 for one ride, and believe it, considering the trouble I went through, it should have been more. Psycho Obsessed with His Mother One of the men all we drivers knew was a guy named Hilliard. He was nuts, and I mean literally nuts. He was in his 40's, I'd say, never had a job, lived in a hotel, and survived on the money left him by his parents. One day I got an order to deliver to him a gross of toilet paper. That's right -- a gross. One hundred and forty-four rolls. Hilliard rarely left his room, as you can tell. I hauled this huge cardboard box up the elevator, knocked on his door...and was ushered into one of the strangest scenes I've ever looked upon. Just about all there was a a bed, a dresser littered with bottles of psychiatric medication, and at the end of the bed, a couch. On that couch, facing the bed, was a full-length oil portrait...of his mother. Obviously, Hilliard would lie on the bed, gazing at this picture of his dead mother. Norman Bates, anyone? Crazy Knife-Wielding Woman One day I was swapping war stories with another driver, and he told me he had years ago picked up a woman who for no reason at all had reached from the back seat and started stabbing him in the face with one of those flimsy steak knives. He turned around and tried to grab her wrists, which is a bit difficult when in the front seat. She knifed him a few more times and finally he just punched her and knocked her out. The cops came and hauled her off. I could only find a few very fine scars on his face. He said the surgeon did an excellent job, but had to sew the cuts from the inside out. Such is the life of a cab driver. That's why I don't do it anymore. Fighting Flamers One morning I was pulling out of a parking lot when I saw the two flamers who lived around the corner from me bitch-slapping each other on the street. I put it in park and sat there and enjoyed the show for at least three minutes before I drove off. They were rolling around on the street, on the sidewalk and on the front yard, flailing away at each other and causing no damage. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen. Later that day, one of them was waiting next to his car, with flowers and balloons, waiting for his boyfriend to show up so he could apologize and they could make up. Two Really Drunk Guys I once picked up two guys, maybe in their middle 20's, and took them to the airport. They were very drunk. On the way to the airport, I noticed they smelled funny. I suddenly realized what it was. These guys had been steadily drinking for several days, and what I was smelling was the booze coming out of their pores. I had heard about this, but never encountered it before. But then, I don't think I'd ever run across anyone drinking for three or four days straight. It's something I'll never forget. But then, there's a lot of things about driving a taxi I'll never forgot. The Puzzled Old Guy One grey, cold, drizzly morning I stopped at the local 7-11 to get some cigarettes, a coffee and a donut before I picked up some sleepy kids to take them to school. As I was pulling out of the parking lot I noticed some old guy, maybe 75 years old, wandering across the lot with a small bag and a puzzled look. I figured he had probably walked there to get some breakfast, and probably only lived a few blocks away, so I asked him if he wanted a ride, no charge. A two-block walk in the cold rain is no picnic. He got in the car and told me his address. Sure enough, he lived two blocks away -- but he was walking in the opposite direction. Still wearing that puzzled look, he told me had had lived in his house for 40 years. . .but he couldn't remember where it was located. He was still sharp. . .he just couldn't remember how to find his house. Like an advanced version of forgetting where your car is at in a parking lot. I dropped him off, said good-bye and wished him luck. Haven't seen him since.
Poster Comment: I've got dozens of these stories.
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#1. To: Turtle (#0)
You could probably write a book on this, fiction or nonfiction.
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