XXXI I

Before my first day ever driving a cab I remember having the thought that I would see a lot of accidents during my time on the road. A lot of fender benders for sure and no doubt some bad ones as well. Indeed I have seen my share of bumper taps, however I’ve yet to witness a very bad accident. I have always wondered how I might react in that situation though. Maybe everybody does. I know in my mind I’ve tried to visualize what would need to be done the same way a shortstop might visualize making that crucial diving grab and throw to first. You’d like to think that you would be able to do the right thing. You’d like to think that you’d know exactly what to do and when, and then you would just do it. Just like that shortstop. Or maybe, you might have it in you to do something important if you had to. Maybe, you could even be the hero. We’d all like to think so. But the truth of the matter is you don’t know. And you won’t. Until the situation presents itself.

I was NB on I-95 en route to a radio call I had taken. It was about 2 in the morning and there was no traffic so I was fast approaching my exit. I already had the mic in my hand so I could call for my location as soon as I got to the stoplight. When I started the bend at the Rainbow curve was when the smoke was first noticeable and it got thicker and darker the farther I went. I had my foot off the gas now and hadn't progressed very far around the turn before it became clear.

It was a blue Honda, or what was left of a blue Honda anyway. Laying upside down, smoke and steam rose from the undercarriage while the rear tires continued to spin. The trunk lid was resting on top of the concrete barrier that separates the Summerlin Parkway off ramp from the freeway, leaving the car at a very awkward pitch. This car was tore up pretty bad, looking like it had rolled over many times. I had to maneuver the cab around various car parts and the remains of two completely destroyed road signs that scattered along the road leading up to it. There was another car there. Three lanes over to the right, on the shoulder of the off ramp a white SUV had it's four ways on. It appeared to be the Good Samaritan. I turned my four ways on, pulled up alongside and rolled my window down to address the female driver.

Were you involved?

No I just watched it happen.

Did you call 911 already?

She held up the phone in her hand as she was putting her earpiece in with her other hand.

Right now.

I pulled the cab over in front of the SUV, got out and ran towards her window.

Do you know where we are?

She didn't respond.

Tell them we're on I-95 Northbound, directly at the Summerlin Parkway off ramp. We need NHP and Fire & Rescue here immediately.

I figured I would give her the exact location. You'd be surprised how many people are incapable of doing this accurately.

Is there anybody alive in there?

I asked a question I knew she didn't know the answer to. I don't know why. She was just as scared as I was and even if she wasn't, she wouldn't have had a chance to find that out anyway. She just stared back at me.


As soon as she started talking to the dispatcher I took off running across the lanes of the Summerlin Parkway off-ramp. I didn't get far before the debris began impeding my progress and the smell of gasoline became apparent.


...to be continued

Part II HERE

XXX

I loaded a single at MGM. A clean cut white guy, mid 30's, dressed up in a very nice looking however oddly green colored suit. His bottom jacket button was undone, he had the matching belt and shoes and a watch that is probably worth more than your car to complete the ensemble. You didn't have to know anything about suits to know that this was a expensive suit. I can say that because I don't know anything about suits. He got in the backseat and gave me the destination:

Las Vegas Lounge please.

Perhaps some of you are familiar with this establishment and those of you might be laughing already. For those that are not, allow me to explain....

Located in Commercial Center, the LVL is the standard in Las Vegas as far as the transvestite, trans-sexual, trans-gendered, trans-fat, trans-??? hangouts are concerned. In the past when I have dropped off or picked up there I have struggled to find the appropriate pronoun to use in addressing my passenger(s). I've since figured that you should address these types of people according to how they are trying to be perceived. In other words, a dude who is trying to dress up and look like a girl, is "girlfriend" or "honey". On the other hand, a chick who's trying to go Adams apple is "sir" or my personal favorite, "bro". Either way, to call the crowd that regulars at this place interesting or diverse wouldn't do them justice.

So needless to say I have never dropped or picked a passenger at this establishment that fits Mr. Suits mold. Obviously. "Fish out of water" wouldn't even begin to describe Mr. Suit perusing this bar. So shortly after we departed the MGM the thought crossed my mind that perhaps this guy is mistaken. Perhaps I should give him the low-down on the joint because there is no way Mr. Suit is into this scene. Right? But then again, he asked for this place by name! He knows what's up....he has to.

Along the way I'm going back and forth in my mind as to whether I should give this guy a heads up or not. Obviously if that is the sort of thing he is looking for, you risk offending and embarrassing the guy by bringing it up like that. On the other hand if you say nothing, you risk inserting a perfectly straight guy into pretty much the worst place imaginable for him.

It's worth noting that ultimately, I care not what your deal is. I'm a firm believer in the "live and let live" philosophy and just as long as your program isn't fucking up mine, I seriously don't care what it is that you are or are not into. I'm not going to judge you either. Whatever your thing is...if it makes you happy, then right the fuck on.

Shortly before clearing I finally made my decision.

This is a grown man, he knows perfectly well where he's going. On the off chance that he doesn't I'm sure he can survive the situation. So I decided to say nothing, however I did hand him my card as he stepped out of the cab.

Hey if you need a ride back you can give me a call if you want.

Ok, thanks

My phone rang 3 minutes later.

Hey this is the guy you just dropped off at the Las Vegas Lounge, are you still in the neighborhood?

Yeah, what's up?

Can you come back and get me?

No problem, I'm just around the block I'll be there in a minute.

I was there again in no time, he got back in and asked to return to the MGM. I couldn't help myself anymore.

Not what you where looking for?

You knew about that place?

I know about every place.

Well why didn't you say anything? Do I look like the kinda guy who is into that?

No Sir, you don't. But, that's none of my business my friend. Besides, that's why I gave you my number. Do you think I give every straight looking dude that's into male lesbians my card?

I'm going to kill that fucking guy.

Who

A friend of mine back home....We were having a conversation about the best place to find hookers in Vegas a while back and he told me about that place. We play pranks and do stuff like this to each other all the time.

Fitting that a man wearing a suit that color has a friend like that.

XXIX

NBA All*Star Weekend, Las Vegas 2007: Taking the term "ShootAround" to a whole new level.

In hindsight I wonder how many weapons I unknowingly had in the cab over the weekend, I think an o/u of 6.5 would be reasonable. Thankfully, nobody ever showed me theirs. To call the weekend out of control would be a gross understatement. Conservative estimates had the number of visitors in the 250-300,000 range. Presidents Day, Chinese New Year, Valentines day and the biggest NBA All*Star Game ever collided to produce a Mike Tyson crowd times ten, complete with traffic conditions that could only be described as impossible. The only thing like NYE I've seen that wasn't NYE. Every street intersecting the strip was backed up a mile on either side and forget about the strip and hotel entrances all together. Rides that normally take 5 minutes could take 35 minutes. Then fools get in your cab and complain that there aren't enough cabs because they've been waiting forever. ...Yes, because the answer to traffic congestion is always more cars. On top of that cluster-fuck I have never seen so many people completely out of control in my entire life.

There is this restaurant just off the strip by Hooters called Coco's. It's a smaller 24/7 franchise like Denny's. It's owned and operated by a nice older lady and on Friday night she had to close because the majority of her patrons were walking out and not paying. Two of her wait staff abandoned their shifts because they were getting harassed and not getting paid at all let alone tipped. That's as fair of a "snapshot" as any I think. Metro logged over 400 arrests, more than three times the daily average for a NYE. I lost count of how many times somebody talked shit or tried to get one over on me. I had my first real run out ever and more than quadrupled my previous "stiff" record, and then did it again the next three nights consecutive. I honestly don't believe it's possible to accurately depict the weekend without coming across like a racist.

One good time I had specifically though occurred on Saturday. It was about 10 or so and I had a ride going out to a timeshare resort way south end of the Blvd. I was glad to get a ride out there and away from Gridlock 5000, even though I was pretty sure I would be getting the 18th stiff of my weekend. I had passed the point of annoyed sometime yesterday and switched from "making money mode" to "survival mode" hours ago. Switching to survival mode is necessary every once in a while, like when it rains or when you have PacMan Jones in your cab. Anyway, I dropped off the nice black folks and did indeed get stiffed for the 18th time. As my passengers cleared I noticed two fat black ladies standing there, it was obvious they were waiting for a cab. On a slow night, there would never be a ride waiting for you at this place when you dropped but tonight all bets all off.

They got in, one sat shotgun the other in the backseat. Shotgun immediately starting giving me shit:

Damn you took forever, we called you over an hour ago!

Actually you didn't call me, I just happened to drop here. I'm not here for you.

Whatever.

You can get out and wait for the cab you called if that suits you better.

Whatever

They gave a destination of another timeshare resort located behind the Sahara. A nice ride and a great turnaround for me. It made the inevitable stiff #19 easier to swallow.

Shortly after we were on our way Shotgun proclaims one of the staples:

Don't take us the long way, we know how you cabbies do.

I didn't respond. A couple of minutes pass and then she says:

We just need to change real quick and then we're going out to the club, can you wait for us? We don't feel like waiting again for a cab.

You're out of your fucking mind lady. I think she could tell from my reaction that wasn't happening so then she asks me:

Well can we get your number then so we can just call you when we're ready?

That depends.

Backseat:

Depends on what?

Before I could even say anything Shotgun answered:

Depends on his tip. He's trying to get paid.

What do you think this is lady? I'm out here kickin it so I can hook your unappreciative ass up? I just do favors for people like you all night while I should be earning a living? Then when my landlord wants the rent money I can just do him a favor or two and we're straight, right? And I know Nevada Power needs some fuckin favors too so it's all good.

Well yeah. What do you think?

So how much?

For what? For me to drop whatever it is that I'm doing when you call, to possibly have to drive from all the way across town in the worst traffic I have ever seen to pick you up?

Yeah.

50 bucks. Plus whatever that ride cost you.

50 bucks??? You're crazy!

I had a feeling you might say that. Realize however that many would consider that a bargain....So don't pay me and you can wait for cab again like you just did. If you want that type of service you have to pay for it. This is a concept most people understand.

Ok fine so this chick probably doesn't like me anymore. I can live with that. I didn't like her first.

So I took the BLVD to the 215 interchange, then we jumped on that EB so we can cut through the tunnel and go straight down Paradise. Avoiding GL5K altogether. An ingenious route in all of it's simplicity, and all the while not any longer than any other route you could come up with. I challenge anyone to find a better way from 9000blk S. L.V. BLVD to Karen & Swenson in these conditions.

But, right on cue as we enter the tunnel they both start accusing me of taking them the long way. I actually predicted that this would happen at this exact moment. You see, they're doing this as a means of one of two things:

1. They're not going to tip you and would like to have a justification. Or,
2. They're not going to pay you at all and would like to have a justification.

I don't respond. No reason to talk at all anymore if you think about it.

I stay on Swenson because Paradise was still very heavy traffic. We're cruising along wide open north of Flamingo when they accuse me of long hauling them again. I ignored them again. Shortly thereafter Shotgun says that we need to stop because she needs cigarettes. If there is any such thing as karma at all I would bet a $1000 that part of the reason the cab they called took so long was that the driver had to stop because some stupid bitch needed a Big Gulp or something. Also worth noting is how she doesn't ask if we can stop, she tells me we're stopping. It reminded me of the hooker demanding my cellphone the other day. But whatever, we'll stop, there's a 7-11 right here at DI....

I park at the front door and Shotgun walks in by herself. Right on cue with the first meter click (when we're not moving) Backseat says:

Did the meter just move? Why is the meter moving? We're not moving?

......It moved.

We're stopped though what the fuck?

Wait time. 36 cents a minute.

Shotgun pays for her cigs and begins flirting with a dude on his way in as she's on her way out. Apparently the guy has a thing for fat, loud and annoying chicks. This doesn't go on for 10 seconds and right on cue again Backseat yells:

LET'S GO THIS METER IS RUNNIN!!!

Shotgun hears the news and is soon back in the car. I got a pretty sweet booby shake as she ran back. She gets back in and lights a cigarette as we pull back onto Swenson. I made her put it out. I watched her snap the pack, open it, throw the wrapper out the window, put one in her mouth, dig through her purse for her lighter, and light it. As soon as it was lit I said:

Can you put that out for me? This a non-smoking cab.

The look on her face was worth the price of admission. She threw it out the window.

We're just a few blocks away now and are there in no time. I pull into the driveway and the meter reads $24.45. They are talking forever basically trying to figure out how they can split $24.45 in half perfectly. I get out, walk around and open both of their doors as a means of forcing the issue. Shotgun gets out and surprisingly has a pretty big wad of cash, fairly neatly organized. I noticed a hundo or two, bunch of 20's and a lot of other miscellaneous bills. She pulled out a twenty and a five and handed them to me.

So can I get your number so we can call you when we're ready?

50 bucks.

Whatever. If you don't give me your number I'm not going to tip you at all right now...in fact I want my 55 cents.

I laughed.

Of course you do. And you weren't going to tip me anything anyway.

I reached into my breast pocket and handed her a one dollar bill. She added the single to her pile and as she opens up her purse with her offhand to insert the money back into it, she manages to drop the entire loaf on the ground. The pile separated into an area that could have been surrounded by a Hula-Hoop,..but it was windy out!

Immediately every single bill took off in its own direction, many high into the air and I had a front row seat for the best show on the strip. Two, fat, loud, annoying, cheap ass, bitches running around in heels trying to step on and reach for all the cash they could. It was like a life sized money madness machine. There are others standing around watching this fiasco but it didn't take long for Shotgun to notice me standing there laughing.

WHY AREN'T YOU HELPING!?

#19.





_

XXVIII

It was 6:38pm and I loaded at Treasure Island. A single black female. Mid twenties, skin tight belly shirt, skin tight jeans cutoff at the calves and big red high heels. Attractive but not all that. Clearly a working girl. People ask this question all the time and every time I'm baffled..."How can you tell if a girl is working or not?" I always thought it was obvious, but for those who can't figure it out I'll lay it out for them.

There are a few things you can look for and if you spot one or two of them there is a pretty good chance she's working. If you can spot all three it's a mathematical certainty.

First and foremost: Is she by herself? That's a dead giveaway in my opinion. Sometimes they travel in two's but not very often. How many good looking girls do you know that hang out in public places by themselves? I don't know any.

Secondly, the outfit. Duh. Anything that's skin tight up top and either a skirt or skin tight pants on the bottom, and always high heels. That's a must.

Thirdly. If she approaches you. Any real guy knows that hot girls don't just come up and start talking to you. That's the deal closer.

So our girl is working. It's obvious.

She got in and asked:

How you doing tonight?

Can't complain thanks, you?

It's been a long night...I'm still out from last night. I'm sure my pimp is wondering where the fuck I'm at.

Nice. Generally, candid hookers make for interesting rides.

What??? You're still out from last night? You trying to pull a 24hr shift or some bullshit?

No, It just worked out like that.

Dang...Well where you going?

Take me to the Flamingo.

Sure thing

I made the right turn onto the strip and immediately got in the turn lane for the Venetian to get off the strip and go straight down the alley behind Harrah's, IP and then into Flamingo's main entrance. Like I've done it a thousand times.

Whoa whoa whoa...Where you going, I said Flamingo.

I know.

Yes, thank you. You just told me that 10 seconds ago and I know this is probably going to shock you and all..But I remember that. Furthermore I actually know where the Flamingo is. It wasn't even that necessarily but I was already annoyed for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that my night had been going really shitty up until that point. Maybe it was the fact that I just had a bad feeling about this one for some reason. Maybe it was just me.

After the light turned and we're in Venetian's driveway she says:

Lemme use your phone.

Excuse me?

Let me see your phone, I'll see if I can get you a better ride.

Ok fine, I handed her my phone, don't know why I did. She was incredibly rude about it. Soon thereafter I could clearly overhear pissed off pimp on the other end wanting to know where his ho was with his money. They got into a shouting match that ended with her hanging up as we cleared the security station.

Ok, I need to go to 95 & Durango in Southern Highlands

What?

I'm not going to the Flamingo anymore I need to go to 95 and Centennial in Southern Highlands

Ok, first of all you just told me two different places and second, you think 95 and wherever it is you need to be is in Southern Highlands?

It's 95 and Durango

I knew then that this ride was over. This might not seem like a problem to some. Others might even be lured by the good ride. Not me. I mean, I'm not scared or anything. I'm not even worried about the money. She's been working all night, I know she's got cash. It's just that experience told me that this one was gonna end up being a big fucking headache. One that I most certainly didn't feel like dealing with way out there. So I quickly calculated the best course of action and proceeded...

What's the address?

I'm not sure.

You don't know the exact address?

No.

So you really have no clue where it is you need to go then?

I told you, 95 & Durango.

That's true you did tell me that, you also told me three other places.

Just pull up here(at the Venetian), I want to try and get a town car.

I pulled up to the front door close to where all the limo drivers hang out.

Ok, it's $5.20

I'm not getting out yet.

Yeah you are.

If I can't get a town car I'm going to ride with you.

No you're not.

What the fuck you talking bout?

I'm talking bout the fact that this ride has been completed. I'm not taking you to 95 & Durango in Southern Highlands. I'm not taking you to the Flamingo either. I'm taking you to the Venetian, right here in fact. And it's $5.20

Fuck you I ain't doing that. I'm in your cab. You're taking me where I want to go.

You can't even tell me the address!

It's 5555 Sycamore Ave.

Oh well that's interesting isn't it? Now all of a sudden you know exactly where you need to go?

Not that it wasn't done before but this ride is definitely over now. The fact that she played dumb and then was able to give me an exact address minutes later seemed like a big red flag waiving in the air. I wasn't sure what to make of it exactly but it didn't matter.

Look, all you have to do, is go get another cab, right over there.

I pointed to where the cab line was. There is always a line at the Venetian.

I'm not waiting in that line.

Yes because, obviously someone of your stature is very much above waiting in line.

Before she could say anything a Valet knocked on my window. I already knew what he wanted. He wants me to move because I'm blocking a whole lane of thru traffic. Before either of us could say anything my passenger has her window down and asks the valet to see about getting her a sedan. She did a worse job of explaining her destination to him than she did to me making me laugh. Interestingly, she didn't want to tell him the exact address either. The valet went to see about a sedan and she dropped a five on the arm rest.

Didn't see that coming.

Ok, see you later.

I told you I'm waiting for a sedan.

Are you going to remove yourself from my cab or am I going to have to do it for you?

Nope.

Fuck me. Elsewhere you might be able to handle this problem on your own but I'm right in the middle of the Venatian's main entrance.

I maintained composure.

Again, all you have to do is get another cab. No big deal. You can get one right over there.

Fuck you.

The valet returned with an offer of $60 for a sedan to NW Vegas and she replied:

What? I usually pay twenty!

I laughed out loud again. Yeah right, you usually take a sedan home. That's the funniest thing I've heard all day. And you just proved you're full of shit with the $20 remark. The cab would cost twice that much. The valet walked away. He knew he was wasting his time as much as I did.

Ok, take me to 95 & Durango.

I believe we've covered this already.

What the fuck is your problem cracka ass?

You really want me to answer that?

Man, you're a son of a bitch. I'm calling the fucking cops man you can't treat me like this.

You want to call the cops?

Cracka I ain't got any warrants.

Further proof of how smart our girl isn't. When the cops show up what is the first thing they are going to do?.... Anybody? Class?.....Bueller? The first thing the cops are going to do is pull me aside and get my story. Then they are going to pull her aside and get hers. This is what they do. Therefore the "story" is crucial. I loved mine already....."Yes officer, I loader her across the street at Ti and she gave a destination of the Flamingo (hands over trip sheet). Shortly thereafter she informed me that she was "working" tonight and that her pimp was probably pissed off and wondering where she was so she asked if she could borrow my phone. I allowed her to and she called him at which point they began shouting at each other....Here is the number she called if you need it (shows the phone). After the phone conversation ended she gave me a new destination of 95 & Durango in Southern Highlands. Which obviously doesn't make sense. I asked again and she told me 95 & Centennial in SH. Then she re-corrected and said 95 & Durango. I asked for the exact address and she could not supply one. She then requested that we stop at the Venetian so she could get a town car. At which point I told her that I would not be taking her home either way because she wasn't sure where she was going and I didn't feel like dealing with the pissed off pimp if and when we found the place. She began verbally abusing me and I terminated the ride here. She's refusing to exit the cab. I have it on the camera if you need to see it"

Don't have. I don't have any warrants. I think we should call the cops too....I guarantee my story is going to make more sense than yours.

Racist motherfucker what's your cab number?

I'm not a racist actually but at this point I'm just trying to get under her skin so she'll either 1. Exit the cab or 2. Strike me. I was actually hoping for #2.

That information has been made available for you in plain sight.

...I said as I picked up the mic.

Two58

258 go.

Two58 requesting TA assistance at the Venetian...I am terminating a ride and the passenger is refusing to exit my cab.

258 that's a copy. Try to get hotel security involved and I'll inform TA. Let me know if anything changes.

Copy.

Good timing because that conversation occurred as a security guard approached. Valet probably told them.

You want to step out and talk to me for a second?

He said to me. I turned the car off and put the keys in my pocket. We walked a few feet away from the cab and I told the security guard my story. Afterwards, I stood there while he walked over and talked to my passenger. Shortly thereafter she exited the cab. I imagine the security guard did a good job of explaining to her that right or wrong, it was probably in her best interest to leave right now. She finally got out and they walked away still talking about it while I got back in the cab and grabbed the mic.

Two58 you can cancel request TA, everything is fine.

Copy that. Good

I pulled around and got in the back of the staging line. 10 minutes later as I'm loading again I see her and the security guard standing by the main entrance still talking.

Two girls get in.

Can you take us to Flamingo?

Sure thing.

Back to work.

XXVII

My phone rang. I recognized the number as a personal of mine. A group of four guys that I had picked up at the port a few nights ago. My contact was Tony. Tony and his crew were smart, tipped me well and asked for my number when I first dropped them off at their motel. They were staying at a small motel off the strip which didn't have a cab stand and on the weekends it gets tough trying to call for a cab sometimes. Like educated Vegas visitors, they played the game correctly. With the clubs paying what they are you'd be an idiot not to offer your number and services to them in the first place anyway. Amazingly, when they called I was loaded and my passenger at the time just so happened to be going to that very motel. I was only a block away. The chances of this happening are impossible to calculate.

I'm right around the corner. I'll be there in two minutes.

Are you serious? That's great thank you.

They walked right past the passenger I had cleared ten seconds ago. Apparently they didn't notice I had just dropped off and went on thinking I am the best cab driver ever. I guess they thought I was just sitting around the corner waiting for their call or something. They actually wouldn't shut up about how "awesome" I was. I wasn't going to say anything to dispel the rumor.

They gave a destination of MGM but:

We need to stop at a ATM somewhere on the way.

No problem

We stopped at the Rebel on Flamingo/Paradise. I pull up next to one of the gas pumps and one of the guys from the backseat got out and walked inside. The other three discussed their previous nights successes and what was in store for this evenings endeavors. I was able to assist them as needed. Out of the corner of my eye I spot the blond by the bus stop. At least 6 ft tall. Tight body, big fake tits, skin tight white belly shirt, skin tight pants and high heels. She had all the signs of a working girl, but something told me she wasn't. She wore two faces. One said, "I'm sad and need a shoulder to cry on" the other said, "I need a cab". I know both of those faces so I raised my voice and asked her:

Do you need a cab?

She nodded as the 4th man returned from the ATM.

I turned, looked at my boys and asked a question I already knew the answer to:

We've got room for one more.... right?

They all agreed. So I addressed the blond again.

Where are you going?

New York-New York.

Perfect. These guys have offered to share their cab with you, they're going right across the street from where you need to go anyway, hop in.

She sat bitch in the front next to me and disclosed her sob story along the way. Apparently her and the boyfriend were at the Hard Rock down the street and had an argument. So she took off walking and had made it about a half of a mile before we found her. She had plans to take the bus back to her hotel. Actually from there she would need to take two busses. Good thing we rescued her because I am of the opinion that really hot girls have no business riding the bus anyway.

The five of us hit it off. Through my facilitation of the conversation and my boys' game she was laughing and happy with the rest of us by time we pulled into the MGM driveway.

I said to blondy:

Lemme drop these guys off first then we'll run you across the street.

Actually, if it's ok I think I'm going to get out here and hang out with these guys for a while if they don't care.

Why would that not be OK? I'm sure these guys would love to show you a good time,and I can vouch for them. They are good people....you guys have fun.

Tony said:

Hell yeah we're good people...

So my 4 pack plus 1 turned 5 pack exited my cab at the MGM. I figured I would hear from them in a few hours or so with whatever was on tap next for the evening.

My phone rang showing Tony's number less than an hour later.

Hey what's up? Everything ok? You guys aren't ready to be picked up are you?

No man, we're good. I was just calling to let you know that Scott and I just got done tag-teaming that chick.

WHAT?!

Yeah man, couldn't believe it. Not five minutes after we walked into the MGM she pulled me aside and said to grab one of my friends so the three of us could go back to her room at NYNY.

Whoa..how much?

Nothing, nada

Nah uh...

Yeah man. That girl is a freak.

I guess so. Well right the fuck on dude. I'm happy right now.

That's not all.

What?

She's trying to get a hold of one of her friends that she thinks is going to like my boys(the other two guys)

Now I know you're full of shit

No man, no bullshit....so anyway I just wanted to call and tell you that you are without a doubt the coolest fucking cab driver on the planet.

I had always kind of suspected it actually, but that shit is confirmed now.