Midtown, Manhattan

Midtown, Manhattan

What is cheeky?

A guy and three girls get in at the meatpacking district, they are all in good spirits. The guy just met all three, and showed them to a few bars, he was their tour guide of the moment, and all three girls were British. Him and me talked of how we loved the East Village, then we were both quizzed about our neighborhoods where we were raised and also on television shows we watched. They were all such likable people.

"What's yaw favohrit telavishun program?" One asked as she poked her head through the partition like a happy puppy. She rattled off just two names, Silver spoons and Different Strokes.

"Do you know any American sitcoms that aren't more than ten years old?" he said with an equally euphoric gleeful expression.

Not a minute went by when one of us wasn't laughing.

We came to his stop, and he was very much hoping to take one girl home, my pessimism makes me think it is who ever seems most interested. Really though, they were all really fun people. So he got out of the cab, enjoying some male bonding in the front. He said good-bye to the girls, and we had to wait a while. He said a really long good-bye to one.

"Is your shift ending?" the two ask me as we are forced to watch a show we didn't pay for.

"Actually I just started."

"A line would be really good right there."

Oh, bugger. The fare increased a buck, so I decide to tell the two hugging that we should go, on account of the meter, which has increased by a buck.

"Only a dollar, what’s a dollar?" he says

Phhh, doesn't make me happy, but I insist on believing these are good people. They ask to borrow my clipboard so they can poke her in her butt. I also entertain by driving the car in reverse with the door open right up to the couple to maybe remind them that an accommodating cab was waiting.

Eventually he leaves and she gets back in with the rest. They talk the rest of the way about their man successes on this trip to New York. She evaluates him as "cheeky". They wondered how young this other guy was that approached them the day before. He was really small, but his big hair made up for his height, he overcompensated. I drop them off and tell them they were very enjoyable, mostly because of their accents.

"What base did I reach?" She asked me.

How interesting, since they play cricket and not baseball, the whole bases game was new to them. But much like "Silver spoons," I'd like to think we Americans no longer use bases to relate to romance because there hasn't been an approved unit of measure to symbolize any specifics.

"It is different for everyone." I said, "Everyone has a different definition." I was really trying to figure this out and map out her progress according to medians averages and what is deemed suitable.

"Well he touched me on my bum."

Well this changed everything. I remember a former apartment-mate of mine was very excited about her guy touching her on her butt. This must mean a lot I thought. "WELL OH, he touched you on your BUM. A touch on the bum is definitely second base," I exclaimed, with a smile to match their excitement.

"Oh your cheeky."

Chinatown, Manhattan

Astoria, Queens

An old friend

So last sunday I saw a friend of mine, an old friend. I had already dropped off fares two seperate times at this NoHo corner and even picked up once, so I figured I'd idle here as the sun came up. There were three groups of friends who'd forgotten about time or even the presence of the sun. They'd been standing there hours upon hours talking about nothing in particular and enjoying every moment of the present. I get impatient quickly, and this was no exception at first. I waited five minutes and was about to give up on my prediction that they would go for an impulse cab buy. then I saw someone who I hadn't seen in years, and so it became more interesting. he was wearing a hoody, and some fancy boots, but he held his cigarette the same way, so I studied him for a while until he started to leave with everyone. Yes it was totally him. He was in the same graduating class with me in High School, and he also worked at the same health food store I worked at in the east village about five years ago now. So I called out his name, and eventually someone else who paid more attention to his surroundings started calling his name too. He was surprised to say the least. He knew I would give him a free ride and hoped in with two friends before I offered.

They didn't seem to comprehend the idea of their friend knowing a cab driver, so it was a nice lesson for everyone about social something. He tried to bring me in by mentioning that I was related to Bjork, it got there attention for a brief moment. But when I explained jokingly that my cousin's uncle married, the cousin of her uncle's brother, or some shit, they focused their energy back to the rear of the cab. Neither of the two noticed that the meter was off. He told me staright forward that he was going near the world trade center and that he'd show me when we got there. then the woman, she might have been wearing mink, wanted to go to the west village, but i was already in Chinatown. So I pulled over so we could get on the same page.

"What are you doing?" they exclaim in unison.

"I'm just waiting 'till you figure out where you wanna go."

Then He explains once again that I'm a high school friend of his and that the ride was free. And i clarify that it is free so long as it is just one ride. So down broadway we go. I ask him repeatedly what he's been doing lately, and he gets caught trying to figure out whom he should pay more attention to. He dosen't tell me where he works, but manages to tell me he jerks off twice a week, the woman exclaims that is not nearly enough, I agree, but nobody cares. He asked if I hang out with anyone from high school anymore. I give it some thought. No i guess not. I slow down at Murray,

"Is this where you're going?" I ask.

"lets creep there. oh yes, yes this is the place."

Another story ensues.
They all get out. And he feels a little awkward for a moment,

"hey, so it was nice to see you, uh i guess, I uh.."

"There's always myspace."

It's odd when people drop off the face of the earth. It's about time we realized it's not really possible, and blah blah blah. It was cool to finally have seen a friend and been able to take them somewhere for free. In NYC it is not beneficial to arange this ahead of time, because we might miss a good fare, but sometimes things fall into place. My first week I called out a friend's name at 5am in SoHo, but they were probably freaked so they didn't know it was me.

Far West Side, Manhattan

doth my insomnia fall on a deaf ear?

No story this time. I’m up and its 11:54 pm. I got to wake up at 1am to get out the door by 1:30, to make it to the garage at 2:30. Then I may get the cab, or I may have to wait ‘till just before 3am. Enough stories, I think they aren’t genuine enough. Stories about others aren’t my primary interest, but sometimes they can be intriguing or humorous.

I’m up because of two things; one, I went to Los Angeles for four days to visit some friends who I went to a small college with about three years ago, and two, my left ear is clogged and I wonder if I will ever hear out of it again. I decided that I shouldn’t drive yesterday since my ear was clogged and I managed maybe 3 hours of sleep. My plane arrived at 10:30 pm, and the Jet Blue televisions were just too irresistible. At least there wasn’t a crying baby next to me, there was on my way there.

Anyway I had a lovely time in Los Angeles and I’d like to thank all the friends from the old college and there about, and the friends of friends who kept my stay lively. No thanks to the house cat who was psychotic. She attacked me two out of four mornings. I think I was invading her space. It’s too bad that her space is the kitchen, dinning room, laundry room, and hallway.

I will post again very soon, within two days I figure, with pictures from last weekend’s taxi driving, this past week’s trip to L.A., and possibly a picture or two from this coming shift.

Read me / View me soon peoples