Taxi Driver Confessions

Are you flirtin with me?

That fiasco happened pretty early in my taxi career, and I didn't think I'd ever top it. But a few weeks later, I was the first cab in line outside an after-hours club when a sharp-dressed guy walked up and asked me if I'd ever heard of a certain professional athlete. The sharp dresser said that the athlete was around the corner of the building and needed a ride. I pulled around the building, and the man and a beautiful brunette jumped in the car. They were going to Ontario and asked me how much it would be. Since this guy was a serious athlete, I hoped he wouldn't bail on the fare when they got to Ontario. But I didn't ask for any money up-front, which is standard procedure for long, late-night rides. I asked him if his girlfriend was cold, since it was a chilly night. He laughed and said, "She'll be warm soon enough."

Now, we've all heard plenty of stories of pro athletes living the rock-star life and going crazy and being complete assholes. That wasn't the case with this guy. After a couple of minutes, they came up for air, and he asked if they were bothering me. I said that as long as they paid the fare at the end and didn't mess up the cab, nothing bothered me. He said, "Well, if we do anything that does bother you, let us know and we'll stop." He said they'd been kicked out of a cab once for messing around. I assured him that I'd let him know if they did anything offensive. Within a few minutes, the windows started steaming up.

Like before, I glanced over my shoulder to change lanes a couple of minutes later, and I saw her going down on him. I focused on the road more than usual because it's real easy to get distracted by people having sex nearby. It was 4 a.m., still dark out, and I'd been working since noon the previous day. Just staying awake and on the road took all my concentration. I felt them moving around in the back and suddenly felt something against my hip. My cab had bucket front seats with a space between them. I looked down and saw her leg resting against my hip and then looked back to see her straddling him and bouncing furiously. She was bumping against me with every thrust, and it was getting really hard to keep my eyes on the road, especially since the windows were completely fogged at this point. Luckily, they changed positions quickly. The ride took about 45 minutes, and those two went nonstop the whole way. They tried every position and orifice possible in a moving car. At one point, he was thrusting so hard that the entire car was bouncing. I was glad I had a new cab with good shocks.

They went at it so hard they had me stop for water a few blocks before I dropped them off. Then I took them home. The athlete shook my hand, thanked me for being so cool, and gave me $160 for the $95 fare. Somehow, they didn't even mess up the cab—other than the fact I had to burn three sticks of incense to get rid of the sex smell.

After a year of cab driving, I'm still pretty broke, but I have lots of stories. So, here's one more for the road: while talking with a stripper who was a regular customer of mine, I found out I knew the bartender at the club where she worked. That seemed like a good enough excuse to take a break and go into the club for a bit. In typical taxi-driver fashion, I pretty much ignored the women and gave my card to the bartender, hoping for some business.

The club was packed. After I talked to the bartender, I looked around. Suddenly, the dancer I know came up and jumped on my lap. She had a few drinks in her and was a lot friendlier than usual. She put her arm around me and introduced me to a couple of the other dancers. I noticed the guy next to me staring in amazement at the special treatment I was getting. She sat on my lap and talked for a few minutes before heading back to work.

The guy next to me was still staring and asked me what that was all about. "I drive her to work," I said. "I'm her taxi driver."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Forget the Ferrari," I told him. "If you want to meet beautiful women, get a taxi."

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