AND: From the comments at the link (which goes to a NYT article titled "Taxi Flings Take a Back Seat to Uber"):
I drove a NY yellow cab at night back in the mid-1980's. Many comments today fail to appreciate the wild heady atmosphere that prevailed in the city back then - especially in certain parts of the city at certain times. "Dehumanizing to the driver"? Hell no... the driver was often part of the action - or at least invited or acknowledged. Drugs, sex, alcohol, run-ins with celebrities, impromptu parties, out-of-the-ordinary conversations, tawdry confessions, scoring smack in flaming alphabet city, "ghetto tourism", invites to chat with unsavory (yet often sweet) characters... this was not fiction, despite sworn testimony by a few straight-laced cabbies' that it never happened in their cabs. I'm not saying it was all pretty, just that when life is lived to the fullest with no screens attached - and when alternative lifestyles have not yet been snuffed out by $5,000 monthly rents - wild things can happen. At least they did on my watch.
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२४ टिप्पण्या:
It seems rude to have sex in a cab. Even if the cab driver doesn't mind, the next passengers would.
Keep it in the van, people.
I am Laslo.
Uber drivers have your name and address... um
Do you know them?
Woman protests Uber's $100 'bodily fluids' fee
I remember tripping over some crime drama years ago on TV - I didn't catch the title, but one of the stars, as I recall, was Eli Wallach.
Anyway, what I remember was a scene in which a couple of good-looking yuppie types are making out in the back of a cab late at night. Unfortunately for them, the young man driving the cab is a psycho who would have made Travis Bickle look sane. He grows increasingly frenzied over the activity in the backseat until he pulls into an alleyway, pulls out a gun and orders the couple out of his cab.
The couple can't understand why they're being treated this way; they think they're being robbed.
"Hope you had a good life," says the driver before shooting the man and woman dead.
Up until this NYT article, I would have considered the driver's act 100% unforgivable. Now it's more like 99 and 44/100th % unforgivable.
(You talkin' to me?)
The whole article is bullshit. It's a hit job on Uber.
It's a hit job on Uber.
Actually, the article makes Uber sound like it has a charm of its own...
Uber-Driver, I am sure there are people in your town who will gladly lick your back-seat clean, and they'll even pay YOU for the opportunity.
Every town has back-seat lickers, they live to lick communal back-seats: it is what they do.
Usually they insist on keeping any panties they may find.
Supply and Demand.
I am Laslo.
"Every town has back-seat lickers, they live to lick communal back-seats: it is what they do."
Although they intersect, there is a separate group that are only 'back-seat sniffers'.
Some of these cross over into sniffing women's bicycle seats; then again, some of the 'back-seat lickers' cross over into licking women's bicycle seats, too.
The Venn Diagram is pretty congested.
I am Laslo.
Many of the various back-seat sniffers and back-seat lickers go into the Dry Cleaning business: women willingly take the pants, dresses and skirts they have worn and bring it to THEM.
They know who the 'dirty girls' are.
Support local businesses.
I am Laslo.
Women: you should know by now that when you are bringing your items to the Dry Cleaner the guy in the back first wears the clothes and masturbates.
For that brief moment he is a 'Pretty Princess.'
He is also relentless in his search for stray pubic hairs. Yours, not his.
I am Laslo.
"He is also relentless in his search for stray pubic hairs. Yours, not his."
Sometimes the guy at the Dry Cleaners will discreetly leave one of his own pubic hairs on a clothing item: in this way you are always his.
Usually he plucks the hair from his balls: that just seems to be the norm.
I am Laslo.
The guy at the Dry Cleaner has a black light: he knows what dribbled down your chin onto your dress, and he is not buying your Ranch Dressing story.
That is why he looks at you that way.
I am Laslo.
For many of the above reasons Sexual Crime Parolees often try to get work at Dry Cleaning establishments. While the Dry Cleaning managers appreciate the shared interests they usually do not want the competition over the most desirous items.
That is why so many Sexual Crime Parolees work as Crossing Guards.
Volunteer Crossing Guards.
Giving back to the Community.
I am Laslo.
Of course, some Sexual Crime Parolees find work as Uber Drivers. See: it comes full-circle.
I am Laslo.
"no screens attached" ??
It's said that the people who thought subway graffiti an art form were people who did not ride the subway......In like way, the next passenger probably thought the sperm deposit on the back seat as icky rather than Bacchanalian.
You are a Professional, dressed in your sharpest business attire and about to give an Important Presentation to your bosses.
Moments before you are to start you are informed that the guy at the Dry Cleaner ejaculated all over the backside of your pants before cleaning them. That's right: he ass-raped your pants.
Do you:
A. Proceed with the Presentation as if nothing happened: you are a Professional, and this Presentation is more Important than any minor emotional discomfort;
B. Proceed with the Presentation, but suffer distraction and feelings of emotional discomfort that adversely effect your Presentation;
C. You run into the restroom and cry, ashamed with the knowledge that in your job you are a fraud and never should have been promoted to the Position, anyway.
Done?
Now, women: it is your turn to answer the question.
I am Laslo.
I've taken plenty of cabs and never had orgies in any of them. Something tells me this is out of taxi cab confessions.
Travis Bickle: Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.
Travis would have loved Uber.
Laslo and Titus are the same person.
Laslo and Titus are the same person.
yes, of course.
but who?...Meade? Cook? Sir Archy?
Laslo is a Presbyterian minister on a fantasy trip. Otherwise he would know that nobody but old church ladies have pubic hairs anymore.
Wow, I never got any party-frenzy cab drivers in the 1980's. Maybe I didn't take enough taxis.
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