While Las Vegas Sleeps…

Outside of my taxi there’s a man screaming obscenities at his friends… or at least the ease with which he insults them implies a long and deep friendship with the group of assholes that just won’t get into the cab fast enough. When they finally get to the taxi it is immediately apparent that this is the most unusual group of people that I’ve ever driven around: the original yelling man looks kind of like Kyle McLachlan …if he was on a diet consisting entirely of cheese. The woman that he lets into the front seat between us looks exactly like Mama Fratelli from the Goonies, and the beefy, high-school football player-looking guy that gets into the back, is apparently her son. He is sitting on one side of a very cute girl with a broken leg and on the other side of her is the biker from Erin Brockovich. None of them can decide on a destination as I drive around aimlessly, but eventually, the extremely drunk “Kyle” convinces them to all go to his house and I modify my destination.

I’m barely five minutes into the journey when Mama Fratelli starts bad mouthing Kyle and telling him to stop what he’s doing. This is where things get strange because as far as I can tell Kyle is not doing anything. I can see him in my peripheral vision and he’s holding a beer in one hand and has the other one resting on the edge of the window. Mama Fratelli barks “Stop it!” in his direction one more time and he makes some comment along the lines of “maybe you’d like it better if I shoved my tongue down your throat?” - something that seems unrelated to anything that has come before. They are all so drunk that I rule out psychedelics even though things between them seem to be taking place on a level of reality that I have no way to access.

A couple more completely mysterious and confusing comments bounce back and forth between them, and a few more things float up from the back seat, and then, all of a sudden, I’m being directed to pull over at the next bar to let these people out. The vibe has completely changed during the drive and I’m more than happy to comply. It turns out that the cute girl and Kyle will be continuing the cab ride and all of the others will remain at the random location to fend for themselves.

As Mama Fratelli is sliding out of the seat she says something rude to Kyle who then wastes no time calling her a cunt. In the two seconds that follow this declaration the son somehow exits the taxi on my side and travels completely around the cab to sucker-punch Kyle in the side of the face. Then, reacting on what seems like instinct, Kyle lashes out with the beer bottle that he is still holding. The bottle breaks on the son’s head and I watch the beer pour out. The whole incident seems way more surreal than any comparable scene from a movie… I mean, he wasn’t even holding the bottle backwards like you’re supposed to when you get into a street fight.

The biker guys manages to break things up and then Kyle is back in the front seat and the doors have been locked. “Just get out of here” seems to be the unanimous verdict and I am once again on my way with a few less passengers than when I started. The entire bar detour lasted probably three minutes and we all seemed unable to process things at first, but after a block or two Kyle starts thinking that he should contact the police. The cute girl says “Forget about it… It’s over. Let’s just go home,” but Kyle can’t let it go. He decides to gather a posse of friends in order to extract some street justice because the call to the police doesn’t go exactly how he planned. The destination changes for what seems like the fifth or sixth time and it turns out that I’m taking them back within a block of where I originally picked them up. Unfortunately for Kyle, he can’t seem to handle the stress of the last stop light and he exits the cab without warning and wanders across the street leaving the cute broken-leg girl with the fare.

Unfortunately for her, she has no cash and has to get her friends to pay when I drop her off. I’m sure there’s a lesson to be learned somewhere in this tale, but the only thing that stands out to me is “Try not to look like characters from movies.”

Tags: Las Vegas, Las Vegas fights, Las Vegas stories, Las Vegas taxis, taxicab confessions, The Goonies

Well it’s high season for the conventions and bachelor parties, that is for sure! I do admit, though, I am more of a fan of the convention-goers than the bachelor parties. Parties are pretty predictable to the point that I could break it down into three types of guys that are almost always present at one of these gatherings. Kind of humorous, too, for sure!

1) The Cool Guy – This is the guy who thinks his ducks are all in a row by organizing the girls to come over (usually the best man, but surprisingly a lot of best men completely drop the ball) and has explained to his fellow friends that he knows how the whole thing is going down. Unfortunately he usually gives the wrong impression to the guys about what the girl on the phone said to him about how things really go for parties (like he thinks that we work for one-dollar bills and that this must be a cheaper route than the club when, in fact, it’s like an ultimate VIP room party, but on location to their hotel!)

2) The Guy Who Is Never Happy – This guy usually happens to double as being the most broke guy in the room. as well. He had 40 bucks to spend and wanted to make sure it spent like it was $1000. He also doesn’t care about the bachelor (the person who the party is actually for,) but more concerned about what he is getting for the money spent. His attitude a lot of times kills the party’s mood and brings the other guys down before they can ever get down!

3) The Crazy Guy – This is the carefree spirit of the party who doesn’t care what it takes to have fun and will do whatever he can to entertain his buddies. When asked for tips to play stripper games of stuffing the bachelor’s boxers with dollars he actually will shove the dollar bills in himself. He sometimes will feel the need to show off his dancing skills to the ladies and never forgets to ask if we need a drink… twenty times. Also, he is usually the most generous tipper of the bunch and realizes his other friends are pretty lame when it comes to having a good time.

Unfortunately the three main characters at typical bachelor parties sometimes combine themselves into the same person! Just yesterday The Cool Guy turned into the Never Happy Guy within ten minutes… That’s just never a pretty sight for a girl standing there in a g-string!

Tags: Las Vegas bachelor parties, Las Vegas stories, Las Vegas strippers

Only in Las Vegas, Nevada, would you see a man’s privates in public before dinnertime, and if you did happen to see said man’s now public privates, there’s a good chance it would be on Tropicana Boulevard.

A few weeks ago I was driving down Tropicana from the office of a service that offers “strippers to your room,” when on the opposite side of the road, I saw a man in his fifties with only sweatpants on and his shirt laying on the ground. Reluctantly standing next to this guy was a man who picks up the trash for the Wild Wild West Casino and Truck Stop who was trying to do his job of emptying out the trash barrels along the road and parking lot of the property. He couldn’t do his job very well, though, since the half naked man was yelling at him, pushing him, and then suddenly trying to hug him, as if to say, “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me.” He’d go through this process, over and over – yelling, pushing, then apologizing.

The craziness with the casino janitor was interrupted, though, when the half-naked man suddenly decided to walk away from the worker, stop traffic on Tropicana, and yell at a car before returning to the sidewalk. After getting out of the road, he proceeded to pull down his sweatpants and reveal his shriveled privates to all who were watching.

The best timing by a cop I have ever witnessed was when a Metro officer pulled up on the curb just as this nut pulled his pants down. The now naked man had the most shocked look on his face when he realized he was caught red handed with his pants down. Literally. Mind you… This was all before 2:30pm on a chilly day. I would have kept my pants on even if I were inside… I’ll reserve my stripping for warm hotel rooms!

Tags: homeless, Las Vegas, Nevada, Sin City, Stories, strippers, Tropicana

The girl that’s about to get in my taxi is jumping around, full of energy and obviously happy just to be alive. I might even go so far as to say that she’s “buzzing with excitement.” …….but only because she’s dressed like a bee.

Her ladybug friend has on some kind of boy short/thong hybrid that exposes most of her butt and, much like a ladybug, is less frenetic. She makes sure her wings don’t get crunched in the door as she gets in the front seat. The guys with them have no costumes and, from what I can tell, have probably been switching out their full drinks for the girls’ empties all night.

They all seem to want to drive to different destinations and, not surprisingly, the bee girl wants to find the next place to party. I don’t think it’s ever been so loud inside the cab. Miss Bumblebee and Princess Ladybug are talking at the same volume that they must have been using inside the club. One of the guys says, “Stop whispering! Can’t you guys speak up? I don’t think he can hear you.” The sarcasm doesn’t seem to have any effect and then the other guy says, “I’m sure this cabbie is having a rough day. You should show him your tits.” I don’t know what kind of guy he thinks he is… but I like his style.

Unfortunately, the new comment has no effect either. It takes a few more variations of “c’mon, flash him!” before Miss Bumblebee finally catches on. “Do you want to see my boobs?” she finally asks. “Absolutely yes. Very much so,” I think, but why I don’t say that I’ll never know. Instead I say “you really don’t even have to ask” or something equally dorky and she pulls down her top…revealing a black tube-top type bra device. She laughs and then almost immediately screams out the window at some guy in a truck asking if he wants to see her boobs. He says “Absolutely yes. Very much so” or something like that and then her boobs are out. They are pert, perky and pierced…and I completely understand why it was necessary to free them from their elastic prison.

We arrive at their hotel instead of another club and I get one more glimpse of ladybug butt before they disappear. I love Halloween. We really need more fun, dress-up holidays….

One short skirt girl friend of theirs yelled to her three short-skirted friends as they exited the taxi: “Don’t show your Britneys!”

[editor's note: Nick, our resident taxicab driver and taxicab confessional writer/aspiring screenwriter has been suffering from acute penographer's infarction, or API (writer's block,) so this is his first article since mid July. He's feeling a sudden burst of creative cab-juices lately, so I think we can possibly expect a bit more from him in the near future. Let's us cross our fingers and take full odds on cabs #6 and #8... And hope Nick the Cabbie figures out he needs to start bringing us so damn pictures!]

Tags: after hours, alcohol, blog, cab confessions, cabbie, cabby, debauchery, drinking, girlfriends, Halloween, naked, Stories, story, taxicab confessions, writer, writing