Another cold night in the city of Edmonton, but tonight is a Wednesday night. I don't work the hump day. In my opinion only the rotten apples have to come out in the middle of the week, the good ones stay at home with their families. Tonight does have a certain chill in the air and snow, fuck the snow, but it dose remind me of a crazy fare I had on a Wednesday night. This Wednesday in particular was two years ago, it was during one of the biggest snow storms of the year. Scary! Ya. I was a dumb ass rookie. I was just begging to understand the laws of physics of taxi driving. Like think about this? who goes out during a big snow storm. Mmmmmmm, you got the addicts, their looking for a fix. You got the boozers jonzing for a drink. Whores looking to keep warm and dogs needing to take a shit.
So I'm out their getting use through the inch and a half of snow falling every half hour, trying to make a living. Fuck, I was having fun. Until, of course the Hump day Bump came along. I was driving up Calgary Trail south of eighty second avenue. There is a pretty well known club there, I was looking for a flag, it was closing time. Then I saw a women flag me down through all the falling snow. I slam on the brakes, slide, and stop. I then see this girl get a right jab, bang straight in the face. Fuck, I'm a rookie I watch as she starts stumbling toward my car, but right as her bloody face becomes clearly visible through the snow and foggy windows she turns around. "Don't go back" I yell through the slowly opening window. She doesn't hear me. The man starts to pummel her. I get out of the car, I yell for him to stop. The two drag themselves toward the entrance of the bar, I want to pursue but I can see two mother fuckers jumping into my car. Fuck. It's parked in the middle of Calgary Trail. I jump back in. There is a Big fat Native man sitting in the front seat and a little white dude in the back. I tell them I need to help this women, that man is kicking her ass. I watched these to assholes run right by them I knew they didn't give a flying fuck. As I start to back up, the native dude says " ya o.k I got a knife" then proceeds to pull out his weapon. "Fuck, put that shit away and get out of the cab" I scream. Then the native dudes pulls out five or six hundred bucks. "O.k then where are we going?" I ask, I'm back in business. I was also a dumb ass newbie. " Speaking of money" the native dude says turning to the man in the back seat. The man says nothing. He is awesome looking. He's dressing in a spring denim Jacket and jeans. Its cold in Edmonton, it was cold that night. Also he was wearing a pair of sunglasses late at night, and the best part about them was they were missing a lens. He looked priceless. "Money?" the native man said again, then turned back to the dude and slapped his spaced out face with the four hundred dollars he was holding. The man all of a sudden reached into his pocket and pulled out a ATM card. "Stop at the next gas station" the oversize stinky native man demanded. I did as I was told, I was a little bit frightened and a little bit intrigued. The two entered the Gas station. Only the Native dude came back, he had the bank card. I always wounder what happened to the other guy, it was an awful night. The Native dude and me moved on. He stunk, bad. He told me a Millwoods address, fuck, Millwoods difficult to navigate in on a bright sunny day. Now cold and snowing like a sun of a bitch we looked for that address. On the way there the Native man confessed to me that he is a Spiritual leader, a shaman of sorts. To this day I believe him. We get to the address. Two new people get in the car, a girl and her dirty old big bent nose pimp. I could tell she was a hooker, a street walker, they have a distinct smell. USED UP. fuck. She was fucked up on something. They sat in the back and the stinky shaman got up front with me. The two do a drug deal, my fare, the spiritual leader hands the pimp over all his money. I mention something about saving some for me, I get ignored. I was still new I wanted to make a good impression to all my clients, even the garbage ones. I kept quiet.
It was around this time that the young princess in the back started convulsing in the back. She started yelling that her head was going to explode. The way she was twitching I was getting read to duck and cover while maneuvering a Ford Crown Vic through a freshly snow covered street. "Stop immediately, I'm a shaman, I can fix her just stop the car" the shaman cried out with a crack haze conviction. Then she started yelling "no fuck off, it was those mushrooms you gave me they did this. Its been happening all night." I stop the car, the Shaman makes his way to to the passenger side door. He opens it and tells the girl to lie down on the seat and stick her head out the door. She listens like he's her Shaman. I imagine him slamming the door on her head. He's crazy, but he doesn't he grabs her chin and her forehead and he twists, actually he jerked hard. I gasped because I thought he broke her neck, so did the pimp. She got up though, good as new. Phewwwwwww. Scared me half to death, good thing he did not slip on the snow, it was still coming down hard, we were leaving fresh tracks. The pimp and his head broken whore got out on the south side, me and the magical crack smoking, mushroom Shaman kept going. He gave me an address downtown off of a hundred and seventh avenue. I had no Idea how bad of a neighborhood it was yet, remember I was still new. Then he kept asking me if I did dope, I said "nope." When we got to the apartment complex where he was going to, the snow subsided, I could see a few feet in front of me. This made me happy and so did getting this guy home. Except upon arrival the at least two hundred pound man told me he had no money. The fare was fifty five dollars, it was made driving in the worst snow storm ever. Then he pulled out a huge hand full of dried up mushrooms, presumably the ones that got that crack twat sick. "No I don't want that I want my money" I told him. Then he tried to bribe me with one more hand full telling me I told him I do dope. Lies all lies, this fucker used me like an asshole and he was going to get away without paying. Remember I was still stupid and naive. The shaman left me that night with a good story , a bunch of fungus crumbs that messed up the floorof my car and a shit stink that I couldn't cover up because I think he actually took a dump while he was in the car, Fucker. As I watched him waddle his fat ass away, I thought how cool it would be if he tripped and fell, and then he did, no just joking but that would have been great, no he overdosed on a couple of eight balls of crack later that nigh. Well maybe. Fuck. Maybe he thought about me and cleaned up. AaAwwWww. Who Knows?
1 comment:
It never ceases to amaze me how cab drivers from around the world all get the same kind of people and experiences! Welcome to the blogroll brother!
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