I tend to keep myself running around non-stop. I have a day job that gets me up well before seven each morning. Then I have to jump a cab to get to this internet radio show that I do. From there I usually either go to a stand-up show, out with my girlfriend or out with my buddies. If it’s Monday I have to go to yoga (some of you hate me now, and I kind of hate myself). This kind of non-stop schedule catches up with me from time to time and really stresses me out. I get moody and mouthy. I get a really short fuse and have no problem at all with taking it out on someone else. And I really give it to service industry folks. See, you could talk a lot more shit to someone when they are working, because in order to whip your ass, they have to be willing to lose there job. I’m not going to just start talking shit to some idiot in a club because there is a solid chance he could beat my ass. But you take that same guy and have him bring me a Coke instead of a Sprite at a diner and I am all over his ass. “What’s this? Who’s this for? I have no clue what this could be, I know I ordered a Sprite.” I love it and I am a jag-off. But there is one group that just brings out the true scum-bag asshole in me: cab drivers. There is a solid chance that I will either kill or be killed by a cab driver.
I grew up on the south side of Chicago and moved up north a bit after college. I consider myself nothing less than an expert on Chicago city streets. And I don’t just mean how to get somewhere. I mean how to get somewhere, well. I know about the flow of streets, whether they are congested, if so, what time of day they are best or worst to use. And I use my knowledge to judge other people. Anyone, usually friends or family or whoever I’m driving with. I will lose respect for you if you turn down a certain street at a certain time of day. And I will hold a grudge. But you can’t be too vocal with friends and family because when it comes down to it, I don’t have a car and they are driving me somewhere for free. But with a cab driver, all bets are off. It’s open season. I’m paying you money. You better get me to where I want to go the exact way I want to go, and if you stray even the slightest bit from this imaginary map I have in my head that I refuse to share with you, you will have a drunk pitt-bull barking in your god damn ear. I’ve had some legendary ones, real knock down drag outs. This is how it happens. I get in a cab. I tell the driver where I want to go and I immediately figure out the quickest way to get there. I share none of this with this guy. The second I think he’s dicking around too much and not giving it his best effort it’s on. By best effort I mean if he doesn’t make a u turn when one was clearly needed, fucking around in the left hand lane when the right is breezing or like, you know, you’re a little bit sauced up and well, honestly you just think this son-of-a-bitch is mocking you. Mocking your brilliance. So I speak up, with a really loud and derogatory comment. “Hey shithead, where in the hell do you think you’re going?” has began many an inquiry into a cabbie’s route decision. Now if I simply asked where we were going, he’d probably just tell me the way he was going. But with the way I ask, it usually propels it directly into full on war. Which is the way I like it. Just screaming and hollering, as uncivilized as possible.
Am I responsible for 85% of these battles? Of course I am. 90%? Absolutley. 95%? Now you’re starting to make more sense. But that’s where the skill on my part comes in to play. The battle has to be over something so ridiculously stupid that the cabbie has to get as angry with you, for getting angry with him over something so stupid. Get it? Of course anyone would snap on a cab driver if he charged too much money, or took them to the wrong place or drove then in a round about way because he thought they were lost. And few cabbies would speak up if they had been caught doing one of the instances I mentioned in the previous sentence. But if you start losing your head about some real dumb shit, they have no choice but to follow suit. That is the art of it. And that’s what I am amazing at. And evidently that’s what I consider art. Here are two of my most absurd cab moments.
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-Blast That Fitty- I was actually heading over to Holmes’ and Brido’s place last summer for a writing session. Jump a cab and it’s no more than 6-7 minutes from my place. Now a few weeks before this specific ride I had learned from my ‘Cab Passengers’ Bill of Rights’ posted on the back of all the cab dividers that I have the right to listen to what I want on the radio and have the right to listen to it at a reasonable level. So i get in my cab and I’m now equipped with the new knowledge that I have control over the radio. I tell him to flip to a few stations. He’s getting pissed. I’m loving it. We stop on a station, and 50 Cent and The Game’s “This is How We Do” is on. It’s summer, and this is a jam. “Turn it up,” I tell him. “It’s fine,” he says. He might as well have told me to fuck off. “Turn the goddamn radio up now. I didn’t ask you if you thought it was fine.” “You have a fucking problem, I’ll pull the cab over now.” “Just drive you jag off. I asked you to turn up the radio and you turned into a whiny bitch.” “Fuck you mother fucker.” “Just drive the cab asshole.” SILENCE. We are about a block and a half away from the Mikes’ place when the fare hits $8.85. “I’ll get out here.” He pulls over and I hand him a ten. “Thanks man, sorry about that.” “You’re real sorry. Give me a dollar back. Maybe next time you’ll play someone’s goddamn song for them.” “Aw, fuck you. I don’t want any tip,” as he chucks the dollar and the fifteen cents in the back seat. I picked up the dime and got out of the cab. “Hey jagoff, you forgot your tip.” And I chucked the dime into his window. Then I ran. I was 27 years old.
-Fool Circle- CJ and I were leaving a Chicago Underground show one Tuesday evening when we decided to split a cab. I told him we could have the cab drop him off and then continue on to my place. We find a cab and as planned we drop off CJ. Then I let him know that I am hungry and if he could run through a drive-thru. Now I knew of a Wendy’s on the way that’s open all night. As we are driving, he pulls into a Burger King on the way. He pulls up to the speaker and we sit and sit. It’s quite obvious that the place is closed. “Awesome man, now do you want to go somewhere that’s open or do you want to keep ripping me off?” I say. “Hey man, you told me you wanted something to eat.” “Exactly, not sit in the parking lot of a closed Burger King, there’s a Wendy’s just up the block.” “Man, I don’t have time to be sitting in a drive-thru so you can get some food.” This nearly made my head explode. “Wait for me?! I’m paying for the goddamn (I like to use the Lord’s name in vain when getting a point across) ride. Do you understand that you make no sense?” “I don’t have time for young punks like you.” Now at this point we were at a stoplight on the right hand side of a car with two mid-twentyomething couples in it. It was a nice night so both cars had all the windows open and this cabbie and I are losing our heads on each other. just hollering and threatening each other. The couples are just staring at us, jaws dropped. Completely amazed at what they are seeing. “Can you believe I have to deal with assholes like this?” He asks the car next to us. “You wouldn’t have to if you knew how to do your job idiot.” Light turns green. He switches lanes to get in the lane he’s going to have to turn from in a few blocks and we come to a red light at the next stop light. The car from the previous block had switched lanes also so they could continue to watch this spectacle. They pull up on our right side. We are running our mouths more than ever. “Hey, why don’t you just dump him in the middle of nowhere?” says the kid driving the car next to us to the delight of his passengers. I stick my head all the way out the passenger side window and scream, “I will murder all of you.” They all turn there heads to face forward and promptly take off when the light turns green. There’s silence for the first time in a solid three minutes. “I’m tired man. I can’t argue no more.” “Me neither, my heads killing me.” “You seem like a nice guy (He honestly said this to me. How I would seem like a nice guy to him still blows my mind) we shouldn’t have to get like that.” “Yeah, you seem like a good guy too.” He pulled up in front of my house. “Take it easy man, be careful out there,” I told him and I gave him the best tip I’ve ever given a cabbie.
