Pirates to Pyramids: Las Vegas Taxi Tales Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: JJ Carlson
deep into their typical five day visits.
Americans are rank amateurs compared to these "professional grade" traveler/drinkers. Time and again I have had "the lads" get in my car after three days of partying and hard drinking and they don't have a cross word for each other. Come to think of it, maybe they passed that point days ago and they are back loving and living it up again. This is remarkable in my cab experience and still goes unchallenged by any other group. When I ask them how they manage it they say,
"Practice, Practice, Practice."
As an example, one such group filled my car on a Saturday morning on the way to "The Gun Store". This store is an icon in Las Vegas because on their range you can shoot "fully automatic." You get to choose from twenty or more weapons of WWII vintage to the modern ones you see in movies. Here you get to play Al Pacino and speak the famous line "say
allo to my leetell friend
." You can get targets like Bin Laden, Saddam, or Bush to blow full of holes. Lately, girls have been shooting, in groups, like at bachelorette parties and they report it to be a great way to relax the nerves. Watch out guys.
Off I go with the Brits to the Gun Store but we first need to stop at the bank. While waiting for one guy to do his banking the rest of us got better acquainted. We compared our governments and which had the stupidest President. At one point a quiet moment brought us all to the same question. "What is taking him so long?" After a pause, one of them answered.
"If he comes out running, be ready to gun the motor."
I said "With him or without him?" They are such sports their reply was, "driver gets to choose."
I was starting to have second thoughts about their alcoholic condition, our gun store destination and their comment about robbing the bank, but I calmed down when I saw him return slowly to the car. We hadn't gotten 100 yards when one quietly said to him.
"Did you get enough?" "I got 2,000 that ought to hold us, for now." Not knowing what that meant, how many would partake or in what they would partake, I did what cabbies do. I drove on.
++++
My other happy drunks would of course include the happy couple who were celebrating. They were not celebrating the normal things like getting married, anniversary or winning some jackpot. They were, in fact, partying because the girl had just won her division of the Exotic Dancer Contest at the national convention. Yes, they have their own convention. Conventions come in all sizes, for example your family reunion of 40 can be listed as a convention.
They proudly announced she was the new "Miss Petite Body" award winner. Given how drunk they were, I was not very surprised that she wanted to show off what won the contest for her. It's what she does.
"These are the babies that won it for me," she said. So up went the t-shirt. Out came the girls. And off went the horns in the cars near us. Then all available traffic joined in the fun. I felt like a Rose Parade driver with only two roses. But most importantly, my riders were so proud.
In the past I had seen those ironic signs that say, "Show us your boobs," but I never before had a volunteer in my car
Being the driver, I am responsible for those two in the back so I kept my eyes on the road, mostly.
THE OLD CABBIE
Occasionally, the stories are about the cab driver.
Once I met an older cabbie who had an attitude problem. Don't worry, they don't last long. Since he was pretty sick of driving I knew I had better listen fast to his stories. He was particularly disgusted with the cars his company assigned him. His thoughts were that they were purposely giving him poorly maintained or older cabs to spoil his life and encourage him to quit. I asked him for examples and he obliged me easily.
He: (The Cabbie) One time they gave me an old SUV with a transmission that would slip out of park gear.
Me: That cannot be true.
He: I
Americans are rank amateurs compared to these "professional grade" traveler/drinkers. Time and again I have had "the lads" get in my car after three days of partying and hard drinking and they don't have a cross word for each other. Come to think of it, maybe they passed that point days ago and they are back loving and living it up again. This is remarkable in my cab experience and still goes unchallenged by any other group. When I ask them how they manage it they say,
"Practice, Practice, Practice."
As an example, one such group filled my car on a Saturday morning on the way to "The Gun Store". This store is an icon in Las Vegas because on their range you can shoot "fully automatic." You get to choose from twenty or more weapons of WWII vintage to the modern ones you see in movies. Here you get to play Al Pacino and speak the famous line "say
allo to my leetell friend
." You can get targets like Bin Laden, Saddam, or Bush to blow full of holes. Lately, girls have been shooting, in groups, like at bachelorette parties and they report it to be a great way to relax the nerves. Watch out guys.
Off I go with the Brits to the Gun Store but we first need to stop at the bank. While waiting for one guy to do his banking the rest of us got better acquainted. We compared our governments and which had the stupidest President. At one point a quiet moment brought us all to the same question. "What is taking him so long?" After a pause, one of them answered.
"If he comes out running, be ready to gun the motor."
I said "With him or without him?" They are such sports their reply was, "driver gets to choose."
I was starting to have second thoughts about their alcoholic condition, our gun store destination and their comment about robbing the bank, but I calmed down when I saw him return slowly to the car. We hadn't gotten 100 yards when one quietly said to him.
"Did you get enough?" "I got 2,000 that ought to hold us, for now." Not knowing what that meant, how many would partake or in what they would partake, I did what cabbies do. I drove on.
++++
My other happy drunks would of course include the happy couple who were celebrating. They were not celebrating the normal things like getting married, anniversary or winning some jackpot. They were, in fact, partying because the girl had just won her division of the Exotic Dancer Contest at the national convention. Yes, they have their own convention. Conventions come in all sizes, for example your family reunion of 40 can be listed as a convention.
They proudly announced she was the new "Miss Petite Body" award winner. Given how drunk they were, I was not very surprised that she wanted to show off what won the contest for her. It's what she does.
"These are the babies that won it for me," she said. So up went the t-shirt. Out came the girls. And off went the horns in the cars near us. Then all available traffic joined in the fun. I felt like a Rose Parade driver with only two roses. But most importantly, my riders were so proud.
In the past I had seen those ironic signs that say, "Show us your boobs," but I never before had a volunteer in my car
Being the driver, I am responsible for those two in the back so I kept my eyes on the road, mostly.
THE OLD CABBIE
Occasionally, the stories are about the cab driver.
Once I met an older cabbie who had an attitude problem. Don't worry, they don't last long. Since he was pretty sick of driving I knew I had better listen fast to his stories. He was particularly disgusted with the cars his company assigned him. His thoughts were that they were purposely giving him poorly maintained or older cabs to spoil his life and encourage him to quit. I asked him for examples and he obliged me easily.
He: (The Cabbie) One time they gave me an old SUV with a transmission that would slip out of park gear.
Me: That cannot be true.
He: I
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