Filthy Hilarious Cab Conversations
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Mild Thing

Joined: 18 Sep 2007
Posts: 2721

PostPosted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 9:16 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

If you try and conduct that sort of "research" on me I'll throw Gatorade in your face.
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Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Sat Dec 08, 2012 9:26 pm    Post subject: Lumpy and His Buddy Reply with quote

Picked up Lumpy and his buddy @ the Brass Rail, two young cracker working guys from Chicago, so hammered they didn't realize the Rail was a gay bar!
It was 6 pm, Friday night.
Lumpy sat in front, his buddy in the back.
I'm on Hennepin Av stuck in a traffic jam.
Lumpy's Buddy (grabbing me): Dude, take us to a titty bar. Those old queens were staring @ us!
Me: Yew were right next door to Augie's. Why didn't yew go there?
Lumpy: It ain't open.
Lumpy's Buddy (grabbing me again): Dude, take us to the best titty bar in town!
Me: Don't be grabbing! Yer distracting me from driving.
Hennepin Av was packed with cars, buses, pedestrians and bike riders cruising between the rows of stopped traffic.
Lumpy: Don't touch him. He's gotta be on point.
Lumpy's Buddy: Well then drive motherfucker.
Lumpy: Don't mind him. He's wasted.
Me: Yeah I know.
Lumpy: Where we going?
Me: The Seville. The best place in town.
Lumpy's Buddy: Dude, yew taking us the long way?
Me (starting to amp up): No I'm taking yew the short way cause the sooner yew guys are outta my cab the better!
We pull up to the Seville. I'm not sure it was open, but I didn't care.
Me: Look, yew guys are hammered. The Security's gonna RoboCop yew so my advice is to look straight ahead and keep yer mouths shut or yew ain't getting in.
Lumpys Buddy: Yew got this one Lump?
Lumpy pulls out a six inch roll of $20. He peels one off and hands it to me.
Lumpy: Will yew wait for us in case we can't get in?
Me: Yeah sure.
Lumpy and his buddy stumble from the cab towards the Seville. When they're ten feet from the cab, I drive away. Fuck 'em.
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Joined: 22 Sep 2003
Posts: 7753
Location: xE

PostPosted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 11:23 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I hate it when they grab yew!
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Joined: 21 Nov 2008
Posts: 1240
Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Fri Dec 21, 2012 6:28 pm    Post subject: North Side Mike Reply with quote

North Side Mike is a calm cool together brother, one of my Norf' Side regulars.
His dubious claim to shame: HE'S BEEN SHOT FIVE DIFFERENT TIMES!!
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Joined: 21 Nov 2008
Posts: 1240
Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 11:00 pm    Post subject: New Years Eve Baby Reply with quote

I be driving my cab. Hey yew old punk rock bastards, call me @ 612-636-0294 for fast friendly knowledgeable taxicab comings and goings. I haven't met many of yew mysterious reclusive elderly geezer and geezerettes, so I'D BE CHARMED, I'M SURE!!
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Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Sat Jan 19, 2013 10:05 pm    Post subject: Almost Too Embarrasing to Post Reply with quote

Picked up two drunk guys @ Mayslax. The guy who sat behind me was much drunker than his friend, who was @ least reasonable. They were going two places, the really drunk guy was going to get some action in St. Anthony, which was good since he'd be getting out first.
So I'm driving down University Av @ 50 mph when the really drunk dude reaches around and tries to tit grab me. In my younger days it would have been a hard right veer followed by a harder left veer, which would smack his head against the window.
Drunk Dude #1: Sorry dude I lost it. I thought yew were a chick.
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Joined: 22 Sep 2003
Posts: 7753
Location: xE

PostPosted: Thu Jan 24, 2013 10:44 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Holy shit Vish, whats up w/ your tits!? Shocked
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Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Fri Feb 01, 2013 8:20 pm    Post subject: DJ Sam aka Barbiedoll Shayla Reply with quote

Picked up my buddy DJ Sam, destination Townhouse, St. Paul.
DJ Sam (on the phone) : I'm going to the Townhouse in drag. I need an hour to get ready. Yew up for it?
Me: I'm looking forward to it!
I pulled up to his house.
Me (on the phone): Buttercup, yer cab's outside!
Shayla sauntered out 5 minutes later, all tarted up: big poofy brunette wig, tarty makeup, polka dot dress with matching polka dot 5 inch heels.
Me: You look great! I'd do yew 'cept for that shit between yer legs!
Sam told me he had never been happier. Fresh out of a long term drunken abusive relationship (her,) he felt liberated and confident stepping out as a woman.
Sam: I don't need a woman to make me happy. I ain't looking either.
Me: Confidence is sexy. Yer just cutting out the middle man.
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Joined: 21 Nov 2008
Posts: 1240
Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 10:11 pm    Post subject: I Get This About Once a Year Reply with quote

Picked up drunk alpha couple @ Nyes, destination Bryn Mahr.
Him: Dude, can we have sex in yer cab?
Me: What do yew do for a living?
Him: (put off): I'm in advertising.
Me: Dude, can I take a shit on yer desk?
They got out @ Sex World. $6. No tip.
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Reverend Phil

Joined: 22 Feb 2004
Posts: 3685
Location: under the light of Moonbeam

PostPosted: Sun Feb 10, 2013 7:01 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I've had that one........or something similiar
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Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 7:46 pm    Post subject: Hey Valentine's Day Revelers! Reply with quote

This is fiction. Never happened.

Bored of the same old Valentine's Day routine every year: wilted flowers, stale candy, noisy packed restaurant, horrible chick flick, multiple bottles of wine, driving white knuckled in sheer terror because a cop is on your tail the entire way from the bar to the hotel, checking into the drab hovel with the cookie cutter suites and nasty contagious diseases breeding in the Jacuzzi?
And yer wife seems preoccupied and barely pays yew the time of day. What's up with her?
Fuck that shit. I, Paul Singleton, the best taxicab driver in Minneapolis will be your Chauffeur, Event Planner and Tour Guide, whisking you and your loved one on an exciting, unusual, potentially dangerous hopefully romantic pleasure packed Valentine's Day/Night adventure you won't forget!
It's 9:30 pm. Time to roll. I pick up my alpha power couple clients, Will and Jill Pillswiller @ their tony Kenwood home.
I give them the usual once over. They sucked. Uptight and straight. Very straight. I'm gonna have fun with these two.
Mr. Pillswiller is wearing a decent black suit with a yellow silk tie. Mrs. Pillswiller is wearing a tight little black dress with a plunging boob window. Her perfectly round volleyball sized breasts start at her shoulder blades and stick straight out.
I hold the door open and plaster a smile as fake as Mrs. Pillswiller's chest.
Me: Good evening and Happy Valentine's Day!
Mr. Pillswiller extends his paw, attempting to crush every bone in my right hand.
How fucking typical. I resist the urge to drill him with my left.
Mr. Pillswiller, grinning, claps me on the back. He believes the evening's pecking order is established.
Visions of him bloodied and buck naked on the side of the freeway while I screw his hot wife on the hood of my cab dance in my head.
Me: That's quite the grip, Mr. Pillswiller.
Will: Call me Will. This is my lovely wife Jill.
Jill: Will is so strong because he chokes his chicken sixteen times a day. Right Will?
Will, groaning, sticks his tongue out sideways, crosses his eyes and air guitars the whacking motion
Jill: Please call me Juice. Juicy Jill. Yew can probably guess why.
I feel the old familiar tingling downstairs. I know exactly why.
Me: My name is Paul Singleton. It's a pleasure to meeting you.
Will (winking at me): Paul, yew come highly recommended by a close friend, an ex Rainbow driver. He says you could show a couple of straight edges a wicked twisted time.
Me (flattered): Really? Who recommended me?
Will: Mikey Blue.
I throw up inside my mouth. I couldn't stand Mikey Blue. I loathed Mikey Blue. He washed out as a cop and a cab driver. He was a moron and a whiny bitch.
Me: So what's on the agenda tonight?
Will: Paul, I'm gonna level with you.
Which means he is lying.
Will: Our marriage is in trouble.
Jill: Our marriage is fucked. Tonight is the deal maker or the deal breaker.
Christ, nothing like a little pressure.
Me: I'm a cab driver, not a marriage counselor. What's the problem?
Will: My wife and I work for the government. High pressure, high stress jobs. Unfortunately, I tend to bring my work home with me.
Jill: He's a crabby asshole and he can't get it up. He'd rather whack it than fuck me. I'm thinking he might be a fag. Are you a turd tapper Will?
Will: And I've learned to ignore my wife's foul mouth. Paul, we've forgotten how to have a crazy balls to the wall great time. If you can help us rekindle our old flame, we would be most grateful. Your fee will reflect our gratefullness.
Me: How long have you been married?
Jill: Six years, six months and six days.
Wonderful. The Apocalypse Anniversary.
Me: Where do I shine in?
Will: I've done my homework. You are rare, better than better. Your personality, work ethic and fearlessness scores are off the charts. You are American Sha-Lin. You laugh at the abyss. You drive like a maniac but never crash. You walk with bad men but you have impeccable character. You should be in jail but you're freer than free. You have had more fun in your life than an entire city!
Jill: And you're a really cool science experiment.

What exactly do these people do for a living?

I put the cab in drive, destination Chicago-Lake Liquor store.
Jill: My husband tells me we're in for a real adventure tonight. I'm so sick of the same Valentine's Day bullshit I could puke. Mind if I smoke?
Me: I'd be disappointmented if you didn't.
We roll into the parking lot. A small army of homies and a dozen working girls are loitering within 100 feet of the front door.
Jill: Why we stopping here? This place is ghetto!
Will: Honey, Paul is broadening our horizons. Relax and enjoy the show.
Me: We runnin' wit' da po' folks tonight. I'm gonna buy a shopping cart of cheap booze so yew guys can par-ty! A case of Milwaukees Best, a liter of Karkoff vodka, a jug of Mad Dog 20/20 and a bottle of Jagermeister. While I'm shopping the street vendors will be happy to provide yew with anything and everything yer heart desires. Anything from Girl Scout cookies to a machine gun.
Will: I am looking for a little something something to take the edge off. Will you watch my back?
Me: No offense, but yew look like a narc. And I don't want to see any illegal shit go down. Being government employees I'm sure yer familiar with the term "plausible deniability."
Jill: Will, I want some heroin. If yew don't have the balls, I'll score it myself.
Will: And while yer copping, maybe I'll grab a mommasita and have a little conversation down the alley.
Jill: Go ahead. I guarantee yer severed penis and our garbage disposal also will have a conversation.
Me: Please. It's Valentines Day. Be nice to each other.
Jill: The liquor store closes in ten minutes. Don't you have someplace to go?
Will: Better hurry along. You don't want to piss Jill off.
The parking lot is jammed for the last minute rush. Cars honking, people running for the door, a mad dash because the precious booze is about to be locked up.
Me: I'll be right back. Sit tight and keep the doors locked.
I'm in the liquor store ten minutes. I scan the mob of drunks getting their fix. Laughing, yelling, having a good time. I relax, feeling much closer to these folks than the douchebags in my cab who probably weren't in my cab anymore because they were rich and emotionally five years old. The parking lot was their candy store.
I roll up to the cab with a shopping cart full of cheap booze. Mr. Pillswiller is in the front passenger seat, his wife had vanished.
I load up the trunk, save a 40 ounce bottle of Colt 45 Malt Liquor.
I hop in the driver's seat. Mr. Pillswiller, disheveled and sweaty, his suit ripped and filthy shakes his head. His yellow tie had vanished. I smelled THAT smell.
I crack the 40.
Me: Looks like yew need a drink.
Mr. Pillswiller chugs the beer in huge gulps, spilling down his chin. He finishes it and throws it out the window.
Will: Gimme another one. I'm fucking thirsty!
Me: Where's yer wife?
Will: Fuck if I know. I told her to stay in the car like yew said. She called me a pussy and jumped out. She started talking to this guy. He seemed halfway civilized. Does it smell like pussy in here?
I pop the glove box and spray half a can of Fabrees on his crotch.
Me: It did. Now it smells like yew OD'd on Fabrees.
Will: Yew sure? My wife can detect strange pussy like a fucking BLOODHOUND!!
Me: That smell is primal. I knew what it was before I KNEW what it was.
Mr. Pillswiller pointed to an empty stretch of wall.
Will: He was standing there chatting with my wife. Then they drove away in a black Denali. I figured she'd be busy for a while so I got out and chatted up a pretty mommasita.
Me: I saw her. The over the top exaggerated hooker arm swing.
Will: Thirty seconds later I'm drilling her on a disgusting mattress between two garages.
Me: How'd that go?
Will: As good as could be expected. I gave her $50. I was so wound up about getting back to the cab before my wife I two pump chumped her. Does it smell like pussy in here?
I drain the can of Fabrees, spraying him from his neck to his knees.
Mrs. Pillswiller's transaction was a smashing success. She falls out of the suddenly reappeared Denali, projectile vomiting on the Caddy like a fire hose.
Mrs. Pillswiller steadies herself, clinging to the cab's front passenger door. She is a human pretzel, emptying her guts out.
Mr. Denali hops out. He is not happy. I put the cab in drive and start rolling. Mr. Denali jumps out of the way. Mrs. Pillswiller loses her grip on the door.
Me: Will grab yer wife!
Will pops the door open, scooping her up before she hits the ground.
I drill the gas, busting a hard left. Mr. Denali jumps in his car and begins pursuit.
We don't make it out of the parking lot. Four squads, cherries, sirens and spotlights.
The cops are not happy.
Two officers, ten feet away on both sides have guns pointed at my head.

When confronted with agro police, I relax. I was clean and sober, no drugs or alcohol in me or on me. I was concerned Mrs. Pillswiller panicking and stashing her goodies. The cops divided us in three seperate squads. They took an hour and a half before the figuring out they had nothing and we were free to go. Mr. Denali flipped us off as we drove away, quite the feat since he was handcuffed.

Me: (sarcastically): Now wasn't that fun!
Jill: I barfed in the back of that squad at least twenty times. They asked me what was wrong. I told them my husband made me sick.
Mr. Pillswiller gives me a "don't yew dare say shit" look. Mrs. Pillswiller is on a full nod. She can barely keep her head up. She's scratching her face clean off. She unloads another salvo into the Valentine's day barf bag.
Jill: Usually I don't like throwing up. This is fun! I think we should get some more dope.
Will: Obviously my wife has lost her mind.
Jill: So did yew fuck her?
Will: Fuck who?
Jill: That arm swinging skank in the alley?
I smell pussy. I know yew fucked her.
Will: So Paul, I know we're behind schedule. What's next on the agenda?
Me: I have VIP passes to a wild exclusive party downtown.
Jill: Paul, do yew have an ax? I need to castrate my husband.
Will: Jill, yer a fucking junkie. Shut up!
Me: Listen up. I was hired because I know how to get people to have the time of their lives. Yew two have been at each others throats since yew got in. If yew want to be miserable, fine. I'll pull over and let yew out, no charge.
Jill: Can we get some more dope PLEASE??
Will: Paul, the night is young. If we have to dump my wife off on Franklin and Nicollet, that's OK by me.
Jill: I think I'm done puking. Anybody got any gum? If we can't score and I can't cut my husband's dick off, we might as well go to a party.
I hook a right on Grant and Lasalle. I roll to the Minneapolis Convention Center valet stand. No valets on duty.
The plaza and lobby are jammed pack with thousands of men in tuxes and women in evening gowns. None of the party goers are over 4' tall.
Will: What in the fuck is this?
Jill: Where are these children's parents?
A beefy 3'5 Security Guard raps on my window with a night stick. He was fixing to rip my door off and wring my neck.
Security Guard: This is a private event. You giraffes are trespassing.
I whip out my VIP credentials and hand them over.
Security Guard (into his walkie talkie): I got a cab driver, a Mr. Paul Singleton and two inebriated passengers @ the front door. Singleton has a VIP pass + 2. All giraffes. Between the three of them they're at least 25 feet tall. Nothing but trouble.
Base: Checking... Mr. Singleton and his guests have full VIP Status per CEO Stephanie Smith.
Security Guard: Sorry Mr. Singleton. Being a gay little person . . . Never mind.
The Security guard, smiling opens the passenger doors.
Security Guard: I apologize Mr. Singleton. We have no valet service tonight.
I knew why. Little people couldn't reach the pedals.
Me: That's OK. Will it be safe on the cab stand?
Security Guard: I'll watch it myself.
Will: How do yew rate?
Me: I was kind once.

[Filthy Hilarious Cab Conversations, pg.3 post #1: Lesbian Midgets.]

Me: OK we're in. Remember we are in the minority here. Don't refer to these people as midgets or dwarfs. It's like dropping the n-bomb. They are "little people."
Jill: What kind of party is this?
Me: The GLBT Little People's Bash is the coolest strangest social event of the year! This convention draws thousands of GLBT Little People from all over the world. The closing night bash is an invite only VIP.
We walk into the big room. Little men in drag and little women in tuxes stare at us. We were not welcome.
Me: Let's check out the band.
The headliners, Lil' Kiss, a Kiss little people cover band was on stage. It was obvious they were lip synching along to taped music. Their arms weren't long enough to play their guitars, but the raucous crowd was eating it up. The dance floor was jammed with little people shaking their little asses.
Highlight of the show: Lil Gene Simmons stuck out his tongue. It was about a foot and a half long. It almost hit the floor.

Stop #5: GLBT Little People Pub Crawl. Yew, yer gal and yer new GLBT Little People pals hop specially designed mini pedal pubs to the heart of the beast , downturn Minneapolis. 4th and Hennepin. The 90s, Brass Rail, Augies and Sneaky Pete's are notorious bars within puking distance of each other.
Stop #6: It's getting late. Yew and yer galpal are tired, shit-faced and very horny. Time to bid adieu to yer new pint sized friends and stumble to Sex World Adult Superstore. Four floors dedicated to ensure nothing but spewing gushing mind blowing orgasms!
Step #7: The Starlite Motel. If yew and yer gal don't care for rats, cockroaches, bed bugs, pushy coke whores, tweakers, garden variety drunks, sallow eyed gangstas and desperately poor white trash, this dump is NOT the place for yew. My bad: every hotel room in the entire metro area was booked because of the GLBT Little People Convention. The Pakistani clerk behind the desk felt sorry for my clients.
Clerk: I know what to do. I'll call the police to evict the little midget bastard who punched me in the nuts. He was two feet tall so he got a good straight shot. Bam!
Me: Why did he hit yew?
Clerk: He wanted a step ladder to use the toilet. He was drunk and obnoxious. I told him to go to Walmart and buy one. That's when he drilled me. I wanted to beat the shit out of him but America is a litigatious country. They'd sue the shit out of me!
Me: Don't call them midgets. They hate that.
Clerk: Then he called me a sand Negro and demanded his mtoney back. That's when I called the cops. That was six hours ago.
Me: Look, my friends are tired. How long is gonna take?
The cops, both female butch types, burst into the lobby like the calvary. They are not happy.
Cop #1: Yew Mr. Rampoop?
Clerk: Yes sir.
Cop #1: That was yer first mistake. Yew the guy who was assaulted by that little person?
Clerk (embarrassed): I'm sorry, I didn't realize ...
Cop #2: Realize this. Waste our time and yer going to jail.
The policewomen eyeball my clients.
Cop #1 and #2: Captain Polanski??
Mr. Pillswiller (embarrassed, his cover blown): Officers, Jill and I need a ride home.
Me: Wait a minute. I could care less what yer name is. I need to get paid.
Mr. Pillswiller peels off 5 $100 bills.
Mr. Pillswiller: Singleton, I thought yew were dirty. Stay out of trouble.

Almost the End

Last edited by vishnu666 on Fri Apr 05, 2013 7:36 pm; edited 43 times in total
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 23, 2013 8:03 pm    Post subject: These Boots Are Made For Fucking Yew Up Reply with quote

Picked up my regular peep Q, @, his high voltage job @ the Norf Side Orphanage for j.g.s.
We start talking about footwear. He claimed he drank Cap'n Morgan out of a lass's boot to proclaim his lust.
Lass: What am I supposed to wear now?
Q: Yew aren't wearing nothing!
I segued into my footwear story. A tall blonde Wisconsin lass flagged me down @ the 331. She explained Rainbow was her primary cab company until:
Her: I used to call Rainbow all the time.
Me: What happened?
Her: I was involved in an incident.
Me: What kind of incident?
Her: I was by myself. We were going down the road and his cab was hit by a shoe...
Me: Was it a foreign cab driver?
Her: Yes.
Me: Then what happened?
Her: The driver goes ballistic, puts it in R and tries to run the fucker over.
I explain to her shoe throwing is the ultimate Islamic insult. I ask her if she remembers W's shoe dodging incident.
Her: It all makes sense now.
Me: It doesn't justify the driver's behavior. We want to fire fuckers like that.
My buddy Q, a conspiracy buff, believes W's shoe dodging incident was staged.
Q: Texas Mafia, Skull and Bones, Dick Cheney, Haliburton, etc.
Me: Ain't nothing meaner than a wrinkled old white boy dropping ordinance @ 18K feet.
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 16, 2013 5:54 pm    Post subject: Just Another Normal St. Paddy's Day Eve Reply with quote

A fender bender and a puker. Yawn. Its over!
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 17, 2013 6:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

All in 1 night?!
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 17, 2013 8:01 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

2fisted wrote:
All in 1 night?!

I tried to bust a move, denting up an OR taxi. The puker had the smarts to ask me to pull over on the southbound 35w/Hiawatha split. Getting rear ended @ 50 mph was possible. She opened the door, assumed the puking position but did not hurl. The Patron Saint of Hurling was kind to me.
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