Lost And Found/Drunkwagon Chronicles (II)

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My wife calls Saturday Night la noche de los borrachos (night of the drunks.)

A few Saturdays back I took a young lady from a club downtown to her place in Brooklyn and I scooted over the Brooklyn Bridge and caught another fare near Church and Canal. He was standing up straight and didn't seem to be overly impaired so I raced the other three cabs to him and got him.

He gave me his address at 90th near Columbus and then he dropped off the radar for a while. I was listening to the great jazz on WBGO anticipating going home soon, as this was going to be my final fare of the night.

I heard a cell phone ringing and ringing. There was no answer. Finally after about five calls the guy answered the cell phone. He said "Honey I don't know where the f_ck street I am but I'm in a taxi. Be home soon."

He fell off the screen again so to speak but the phone rang again and again till I stopped and got out of the taxi. The guy was sprawled out over the back seat and the cell phone was on the floor. I picked it up and it rang again. I answered it. It was the young lady I had dropped off in Brooklyn. She was not happy. I explained that I was transporting a drunk and that I would call her when the job got done.

The guy vomited politely out the passenger door, paid me plus a good tip and staggered towards his apartment house.

I arranged to meet the lady on Sunday. My wife was ticked off because I never move a bone on Sunday for her. I gave the lady her phone she gave me ten dollars.