Journal entry:
05/13/01 – Sunday (22:10):
Quite a week…
I actually made enough to pay Dr. R
what I owe him (for my new teeth)… just enough counting what I might make
tonight.
There is a character that lives at
1034 Bath who
imagines himself to be a big time player
in the cocaine arena. I’ve picked him up at all of the posh places in Hope
Ranch or up in the hills at one ostentatious mini-mansion or another from time
to time. I usually refuse the call
whenever I realize who I’m being dispatched to. The guy is so damned
overbearing about his cocaine use… always offering me some and chiding me when
I refuse.
I
picked up one of his dumb blondes earlier and she, to my dismay, directs me to a
familiar address... a punk that I don’t quite recognize gets in my
cab. She is pleasant enough but, as soon as he got in the back seat with her, he asks, “Do you want me in
your taxi?”
Red
flag… means I’ve had trouble with this jerk before. I turned to give him a good
looking over and I couldn’t quite place him… so I said something to this
effect, “Don’t see why not… unless you give me a reason… I know nothing of you
at this point.”
He
relaxed and, as we rolled out of the long driveway, he gave me his address… I don't always remember the faces but I do always recall the adresses... Oh no… not this punk again!
Sure
enough… on the way he starts his shit… passed a crack-pipe up to me and asked, “You
want a hit?”
“No
thanks…”
“You
want a hit… " now demanding, "I can tell… you are an old hand at this. Eh, cabbie?”
So
many of them… coke punks… think they are being outrageous when all that they
are doing is acting incredibly stupid…. nothing at all that original.
He
asked me the most commonly asked question I get asked by these types, “What is the kinkiest
thing that has gone down in your cab? Has anyone fucked in your back seat?
Would you let them do it and watch?”
Annoyed,
I answered, “What excites me probably wouldn’t interest you at all.”
“Try
one,” he challenged.
We
were a block from his house, “The most exciting thing for me is when I pull up
to our destination and unload another fare after I take his money.”
He
reacted as though I had insulted him by trying to get more outrageous... tipped me an extra five bucks while stuffing more coke down his already coked
up nose, "C'mon, have some blow, Bro… On me.”
“Thank
you for patronizing me but no thanks, again.”
The
chick caught it and laughed… wasn’t so dumb after all… but he had no idea what
I meant.
I
see coke dealers and small time mules and I see plenty of the attitude that
goes with it. I see a trail of extortion and murder… foreign policy decisions
and so on that leave a bloody tragedy from Central America
to the ghettos and suburbs here. A certain amnesia and apathy choking America
in a moral atrophy that is too sad to be taken less than seriously…
(03:00) Angie: slipping sickly,
skinny, pretty, big-titted-cokehead doll I know from AA. She’s on her way to
score so she wasn’t all to happy to see me driving the cab… didn’t expect to
see an asshole from the meetings to be helming a taxi in the middle of the night.
She tried to act happy to see me but I
saw her brow contort as she closed the door. “Just going to see a friend… Max.”
Then she thought better of it, “Don’t snitch me out, okay?”
“No, Hon, there is a cabbie code of silence, y’know.”
“Take me to 1034 Bath.”
She
had no idea how much I care.
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