Saturday, July 18, 2015

Sex and Taxis

When I first bought my cab I had no idea how much sex with involved with driving a taxi. All kinds, some normal, most not even close to normal.

The first one the comes to mind is that while heading home one Friday night I heard someone yell, "Yoo hoo, yoo hoo, Mister taxi driver!"

When I looked I found a six-foot-tall black man, dressed as a woman, waving at me from the sidewalk. I motioned him over and he wobbled over in his high heels, got in my car, and waved himself with his hand, as if cooling off his overheated imagination.

"Thank God you picked me up!" he exclaimed. "God knows what some of these men out there would do to a woman by herself!"

I didn't say a thing, but did notice his expertly-applied make up.

That wasn't the only transvestite I picked up. Two were regular riders, whom the dispatchers referred to "Neal and Bob," because that was what they did for a living.

Then of course there was the time I was filling my cab at the gas station when some scrawny crack whore asked me for a nickel for a pack of cigarettes.

I was so amused I gave her all the change in my pocket, about four bucks. She was so grateful her face lit up and she exclaimed,

"Thank you! Thank you! Can I suck your dick?"

I did one of those snort/chortle things. When she wouldn't stop ("I really really really want to suck your dick!") I had a hard time suppressing myself. I've been in situations before where I could not stop laughing and this had the potential to be one of them. I finally got her to go inside and buy her cigarettes, and I drove away. I chortled for quite a while.

I once had another crack whore knock on my window and when I rolled it down she asked, "Can I suck on you a while for a sandwich?"

A blowjob for a cheeseburger?

I gave her about five dollars and told her to get something to eat. Then she went to the cab in front of me and knocked on his window. She must have been looking for fries and a drink.

Driving at night was...interesting. I was once parked on the street waiting for a call and had a woman come out of a bar across the street - with her shoes in her hand - and ask me if I was "looking for some company." When I said no she turned around and got into a truck that had pulled up to the stop sign.

"Damn," I thought. "That was fast."

One time - again at night - I picked up a young woman who said, "Look back here" and when I did she pulled up her shirt and was showing me her breasts. They weren't even close to being good ones.

"Ever had a black girl suck your cock?" she asked.

I had a hell out a time getting her out of the cab. Street walkers apparently go to the "How to be An Aggressive Whore and Never Take No for an Answer" School of Prostitution.

Another time one girl started gasping and moaning in the back seat and I thought, "Oh fuck, she's playing with herself." I just ignored it and when she got out she just walked away without paying. I just let it go.

I asked some other drivers about it and most said, yes, women had masturbated in the back seat for most of them. Apparently it's some sort of fantasy for a lot of women.

Only one woman got really aggressive with me. She tried to stick her tongue in my ear and when her friend said something she said, "Shut up, I'm trying to fuck this white man," then started in on me again, asking if I had a big dick and if she could see it. I just rolled my eyes.

How the hell do you answer something like that?

At least they paid me and were easy to get out of the car.

Quite a few people used to ask me for directions. At least one time that didn't happen, when a woman pulled up next to me and honked her horn. When I rolled my window down she asked,

"Are you looking for a date?"

When I said no she drove away, dateless until her next honk. Or the one after that.

"Looking for a date," I learned fast, meant, "You want a blowjob?"

Sometimes I couldn't even pull over on a side street to wait for a call without some woman coming down off her porch and asking me "if I wanted a date."

One particular women lived behind me and one night I was awakened by a male voice crashing his car into my dumpster and screaming, "You're nothing but a fucking whore!" The dumpster was undamaged but I wonder what his car looked like, since he hit the dumpster two or three times.

I guess these women figured I had money in my pocket so I might be an easy mark. In my case, every time, they guessed wrong.

The absolute worst was when I picked up two fat, dirty, smelly, ugly bull-dyke lesbians. They were disgusting I wished I had a bowl to puke in because I felt sick.

Speaking of lesbians, one early Sunday morning I got a call to a lesbian bar - called the Kit Kat Club - and when I went inside out of the sunlight I couldn't see.

When my sight came back I found half-a-dozen ugly dykes with pool sticks giving me hostile looks. I imagined being beaten and tossed out the window onto the sidewalk, like you see in bad westerns.

"Is Blah Blah here?" I asked. "Her taxi is here." She saved me by standing up from the bar. At least she wasn't a catastrophe, but what the hell was she doing at a dyke bar at 9 am on a Sunday morning?

Gay bars weren't all that fun, either. Most of passengers staggered out drunk and once when I had to go inside to get him the whole place was painted purple. I was expecting pink. And my passenger was so drunk the bartender threw him out.

One guy came out and looked like a skull with skin. Late-stage HIV, obviously, and I'm sure he didn't last long after taking him home

I didn't experience this but in one area where I got a lot of rides one fag was found dead in his car with his pants around his ankles. A friend of mine, who used to drive a taxi for me and lived by a cop, told me the cop told him two fags came out of a bar, got into one's car, the owner died of a drug overdose (I believe the autopsy mentioned amyl nitrate) and apparently the other one fucked him in the butt anyway, then got out and ran.

I ended up knowing the location of gay bars, dyke bars, the strolls for streetwalkers, one whorehouse and one escort service.

I wondered if a decent woman would ever hit on me, Nope, not once. It was all just transvestites, dykes, fags, whores and drunk women playing with themselves in my back seat.

And, apparently, necrophilia.

2 comments:

Robert What? said...

If you are going to proposition complete strangers in public to give them blowjobs, I guess there's no bottom.

Rusty Shackleford said...

That's some messed up, completely hilarious stuff, Bob.