XLI

Some say that the Fremont St. corridor downtown Las Vegas is a bad neighborhood. It's usually an uninformed tourist that doesn't make it into the big city very often making the proclamation. I suppose four years ago I would have been equally misguided but nowadays I personally think the idea is a misnomer. The number of homeless in the area is practically the sole reason for the misconception. It's not like people are getting mugged or killed in front of Binions. Even east of the BLVD. on Fremont, which in years past was a little sketchy, has improved a lot recently. (Hey Goodman, nice work there buddy. How many terms did that take you?) Nonetheless the homeless can be a bit cumbersome. Thankfully, I'm generally in a good mood so I don't really let them bother me. I mean they bother me, but only for the dollar they're short for the bus, to wash my windows or to offer up some of their stolen goods. Mach 3 razor blade replacements, 50 packs of AAA batteries or my personal favorite, DVD porno. Why is DVD porno my favorite you ask? Well it's not because I patronize the guy on a regular basis, although I have on a couple of occasions. It's more just the idea that there is some dude toting a suitcase full of porno for sale always walking around. Always open for business. I can't help you if you don't think that's funny. As relentless as some of the homeless are about money grubbing, I'm still usually good for handing out a dollar a day. One dollar. And only if it's right.

I was on the Nugget stand on Carson St. not to long ago. I was Fourth or fifth in line so I had enough time to take my Mothers call when it came. Mom likes to check in every so often, I'm sure she worries. Although there are a lot of misconceptions about the cab driving gig, most of the potential dangers are quite real. I was amidst a sentence with Mom when a loud mouth, smelling like ass, piece of shit jams his head through my half retracted window and practically yelled:

CAN I GET SOME CHANGE MAN?!...

I responded solely with a cut throat gesture, for I know that to be the universal signal for piss off.

C'MON MAN, I JUST SHORT A DOLLAR FOR THE BUS! HELP ME OUT.

I just stared at him. ...

Mom, hold on a second.

and I placed my phone down to my lap.

....HEY ASSHOLE! YOU'RE INTERRUPTING ME. My cab is starting to smell like shit so get your stankin ass out of here!

Seriously, there is a way to go about things. You would think if your being depended on asking other people for money all the time, you would figure that the fuck out.

FUCK YOU man. You could help me out you just don't want to.

Genius my friend!

and I clapped a few times unenthusiastically.

I picked my phone back up and as I was bringing it to my ear the bum starting walking away. Naturally, he had some more choice words for me along his way. His mouth seemed to get louder as he got farther away and then he said something that just got to me. I couldn't even remember what exactly he said to tell you the truth but the next thing I knew I was pissed off and I got out of the cab and made my way his direction. Four years ago I never would have been in this situation. Four years ago, I would have been in the cab, windows up, doors locked.

Where are you going? Say that over here buddy I can't hear you.

I'll kick yo ass fat boy.

Say that over here. If you wanna be a tough guy, you gotta come over here and say that. You're a pussy when you talk shit over there.

FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKER! I'LL BE BACK WITH MY GUN IN A MINUTE...I'LL FUCKIN KILL YOUR ASS. I'LL BE OVER THERE IN A FEW MINUTES ALRIGHT?

OH, YOU'RE GONNA TAKE THE BUS THAT YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO THE CARDBOARD BOX YOU CALL HOME TO GET YOUR GUN THAT YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE? IF YOU HAD A GUN YOU WOULD HAVE PAWNED IT A LONG TIME AGO.

I yelled as he disappeared around the corner on Casino Center. I stood there for a few seconds before I realized that my phone was still in my left hand.

Sorry Mom. Are you still there?

I said as I began walking back to the cab.

OH MY GOD Andrew did that guy say he was going to shoot you???

Mom said very distraught.

Don't worry about it Mom. He doesn't have a gun.

How do you know?

Mom. It's ok.

Why didn't you just give him a dollar? It's not smart to make enemies with crazy people.

Four years ago Mom, I probably would have.

XL

Much like, the more you learn...The more I see in the taxi, the more I realize that I haven't seen anything. Just when experiences are realized and the looming clouds of mundaneness cross my mind, something happens that completely takes me by surprise.

The doorman at the Mirage blew his whistle and I pulled up the 25 feet or so to find him waiting to open the door for a young and attractive brunette wearing a formal black dress and high heeled shoes. She held her sequence laden purse with both hands. Our eyes met before I even came to a stop and it was clear to me that there was something wrong. I brought the cab to a stop and the doorman grabbed the handle of the rear door to assist the young lady in. Just as she was about to place her left foot in the cab and begin to climb in she asked the whistle toting man:

Actually, is it ok if I sit in the front?

The doorman asked me if it was and of course, I have no problems with that. Not for of any ulterior reason. Just the simple truth that, I have no problems with that. In fact with my depleted hearing these days, I find conversing much easier when you're sitting right next to me anyway. The doorman opened the other door and I threw my carry on bag that usually rests on the seat in the back and pulled the other arm rest down.

She sat down and told me her destination as the doorman closed the door. I jotted the information on my tripsheet, engaged the meter and we began our way off the Mirage property to head Southbound on the BLVD. We sat at the light exiting the Mirage, patiently waiting for the light to change and the pedestrians to clear the way. As easy as it would have been to start things with small talk, for some reason or another I had yet to say a single word to the girl. Her only words to me were "Luxor please". Anything more just didn't seem right at the time.

Finally making our way onto the crowded strip, I decided it was time to break the silence. Or perhaps it just took me that long to find the words.

Do you want to talk about it?

I said as I looked at her. She returned the glance but contradicted her face with her reply:

No.

I suppose if the tides were turned, I wouldn't want to talk to me about it either. Whatever in the world it was. Her one word reply as she turned her eyes away and returned them to the ground was a good enough clue to deduct that trying to form any kind of false conversation thereafter would have been as pointless as it was classless. So I chose another method. I decided to break the silence by turning up just a little, the James Taylor Greatest Hits CD that I had brought along with me that evening. I've found that I like something mellow every now and again. A minute or so passed and from her continued silence, I concluded that I had made the right decision.

We finally made it to the stoplight at Flamingo at about the same time Country Road filled our ears. That was when I felt her hand on top of mine. To reserved, nervous or anxious to open her mouth, she made moving her left hand over from her armrest to mine seem effortless.

Startled is the right word but thankfully that lasted for just an instant. I turned to look at her. Her head pulled up slightly and after her eyes slowly made their way to mine, they asked for my permission. We looked at each other. I pulled my hand and my eyes away, but just long enough to push my arm underneath hers and interlock my right fingers with her left ones firmly. I looked at her again. This is ok.

The Flamingo light changed to green and the brunette and I held hands the rest of the way. I only removed my hand from hers twice briefly simply to ensure that we heard my two favorite James Taylor songs along the way, Walking Man & There's Something In The Way She Moves. They seemed alright. It seemed alright too.

We pulled up the front door of the Luxor, still having said basically nothing to one another. She reached in her purse, found a twenty dollar bill and placed it on my dashboard. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and whispered after a lips pressed, forced grin:

Thank you.

She left me and I watched her every step toward the front door of the hotel. She never turned back. You Can Close Your Eyes played on the radio, and it filled my depleted ears.

LVCC gets published. Kind of.

They're invited to every restaurant opening, pick up at every bar and they talk to everyone. Wherever you are in the world, the person who knows best is sat upfront, behind the wheel. We asked cabbies around the globe for tips on the best venues their city has to offer.

Earlier this year I was contacted by The Guardian, the leading news publication in London. Freelance writer Paul Smith sent an email requesting an interview. Smith was amidst a piece entitled "The Knowledge", a reference to the training Cabbies in London must complete prior to obtaining their permits. "The Knowledge", focuses on the idea that Cabbies are the best people to ask for recommendations regarding food & beverage, regardless of the city or even continent for that matter. Naturally while attempting an article on this topic, he knew Las Vegas was a city he should attempt to include.

After a few brief email exchanges, I ultimately conducted a phone interview with Smith in the wee hours, business hours London time. Here are the fruits of Smiths' efforts. I like the idea for the story and it ended up being pretty good I thought, albeit containing an unusually large amount of typographical errors. For what it's worth, I've since learned that The Guardian seems to have a reputation in this regard. Sure I've had my share of fuckups so I'm not trying to go there, but I don't have the backing of a global newspaper or even college degree so I think I'm alright if a few slip threw the cracks.

Why did I not share this with you before you ask? Well, my full name appears in the published piece, misspelled mind you, and at the time I was still interested in remaining largely anonymous.

The Knowledge

Cabbies in the news.

A well organized demonstration against the constant influx of medallions the Taxicab Authority grants (and its subsequent negative impact on drivers' income) took place yesterday. Drivers numbering in the hundreds wished to be heard and parked their cabs blocking lanes of traffic on Las Vegas Blvd and Fashion Show Lane in front of the old Frontier site.



Generally, these movements don't really get very far. To call it an uphill battle would be the biggest understatement of the year. Drivers are just pawns in a much bigger money game that stretches from the Governors office to the TaxiCab Authority. From the Don to the soldier. With odds like these stacked against you, you'd be a fool for taking the flag and running with it. I mean talk about all time wastes of time. However if drivers do decide to take on the powers that be with the limited resources that they have, it requires a little bit of gorilla warfare. One Battle of Puebla at a time.

However I for one, did not participate in the demonstration.

I've actually never participated in such an event. My problem is with the unions as much as it is with the TA and the medallion owners. The owners want more cabs...Of course. That's their best interest. Obviously, that's exactly the opposite of what the drivers want to see happen. More cabs + same number of passengers = less rides per cab. But the unions, who claim to represent the drivers and speak on their behalf at the medallion allocation hearings (and other pertinent TA/Drivers meetings), actually have a glaring conflict of interest in my mind....

Like anything of the sort, unions simply want your money. Their loyalty towards you runs dry quickly thereafter. Religion, government...unions. Realize that the union, who supposedly is arguing for you against more medallions, actually stands to benefit from the opposite. You read that right. Think about it. More medallions for the owners means more drivers they have to staff, the more drivers they have to staff means the MORE POTENTIAL UNION MEMBERS there are. I find it really hard to believe that an origination who purchased a billboard in town to encourage (more)membership, as well as other advertising methods with the same purpose, are really speaking as loudly as they should against more medallions.

We're actually paying these people to fuck us. Am I the only one that sees this? Pay those dues buddy, and don't drop the soap.

That said, kudos to the drivers that did take the time out of their night to stand up for all of us. You were as undermanned as you were underfunded but perhaps you've helped us to fend off those French bastards for one more night.

CABBY RALLY: Cabbies say tips dwindling

I loaded a Mom and her four kids at the MGM the other night...

...they were going out to Sam's Town. If you don't know, Sam's Town is located out on Boulder Highway & Flamingo. It's right by the Silver Bowl if you know where that is. The Dead played some hot shows out there back in the stadium tour days, UNLV wins a football game there every other sesquicentennial. It's about a $25 cab ride from the strip. Anyway, the mom and one of the little girls sat up front with me, the other three in the backseat. Somewhere along our conversation the lady made some off the cuff referral to something crazy she had seen the night before while out on the Strip with her friends. Well, I too have seen some crazy things I thought, so I said that she should divulge the story. I like to hear stories too. Besides, you can't give me that buildup and then not deliver. Right? She laughed and replied saying that she would, but the kids were in the car so she couldn't. It wasn't appropriate. Fair enough. I can respect that. A moment of silence passed and the very next thing out of her mouth took me up until now to fully appreciate the hypocrisy:

Is it ok if I smoke in your cab?