One of the passages in the Bible that is always sure to draw some controversy is, I Corinthians 9:19-23. Verse 22 is quoted all the time to justify acting like a heathen to rescue them. Such was the case when I got a call to the Westside Station on Monday night at around Midnight. When I told the bartender that I was there for Kyle, he pointed to a guy with a baseball cap and a full black beard, who looked to be in his late twenties.
“I’ll be outside,” I told him.
After a minute he came out and told me that his friend was cashing out, and they would be right there. I sat waiting, until Kyle came out a second time and said that he was sorry that it was taking so long, but they would be right out. After waiting nearly 10 minutes I started the meter, but with drunks you risk a confrontation over a buck or two, so sometimes I start it over after they finally come out. That wasn’t the case this time, as they got in the back seat of my van. They were going to South Salem, and I wrote down the address, but the second guy, whose name was Chad, wanted to go to Presley’s Playhouse. So as we drove off, Chad asked me which bar was my favorite.
“The Triangle” I told him, even though I don’t go to any.
“Do they have some hot bitches there?” He asked.
I told him that I was married and didn’t go to bars to score chicks, but he ridiculed me. He started to ask me if my wife’s tits were as good as the girls at Presley’s, and I found myself starting to get angry at his impudence. Kyle tried to calm Chad down, and then he started telling me about how they had $50.00 in free drink coupons for Presley’s because they were the only two customers there one Sunday afternoon, when the owner was there. The owner Kyle said, was a hot 50 year old woman who looked really great and owned a couple of the clubs here in town, and used to be a stripper in Las Vegas.
Chad was now talking about how he would like to fuck a 50 year old chick, and he was talking so loud and excitedly that I was having a hard time concentrating. I was getting more exasperated as Kyle would alternatively try to calm Chad down and then join in with him about doing a 50 year old chick. At this point, I realized that there was no way that I was going to turn this thing around, so I joined in.
“There’s nothing like a 50 year old woman,” I told them. “Especially if she just got divorced or became widowed, and had regular sex with her husband, she’s a pro.”
Chad was chomping at the bit, while Kyle was having second thoughts and began to say that he preferred women who were in their 20’s.
“Twenty-year old’s?” I said. “They don’t know anything, but you take a 50 year old woman, and she can show you things that you never dreamed of.”
As I talked my voice got louder, and my tone became as excited as Chad’s, until I overpowered him, with my enthusiasm for having sex with 50 year old women. Around this time Kyle said that I had become as bad as Chad, and now he would never get him in control.
“If you can’t beat them, join them,” I told him, as we pulled into Presley’s parking lot.
Chad got out, because he had to take a piss, but he didn’t want to go inside without Kyle. Kyle wanted to use his Visa card, which would take at least 5 minutes, over the radio and with my slider. Charge cards, as we do them now are another aggravating factor in a taxi driver’s shift, especially with angry, drunk and impatient passengers.
While we were waiting for the transaction to clear, Chad came up to the door and asked me if I was retired from the CIA? I told him that I was retired from federal service, but didn’t want to talk about it. Kyle gave me an $3.00 tip and the fare was $22.50, so it was one of the best fares of a slow Monday night.
No comments:
Post a Comment