This past weekend I had another close encounter with a cab driver, a situation that was exacerbated by my level of drunkenness. This brings the noteworthy stories that involve drunkenly dealing with a chicagoland cab driver to three. I would like to share these stories with you now.
DISCLAIMER: It is part of offical ginandtacos.com policy to not make this webpage into a livejournally diary of personal stories (current music – jade tree comp), but it is our policy to show the highs and, as will be apparent soon, lows of excessive gin and taco consumption. I hope you understand.
Jamaican Love Advice, February 2002.
Fellow ginandtacoer Erik Martin (who will be writing again shortly after his release from the Betty Ford clinic next week) and myself were drinking around the southwest burbs of Chicago. We had just seen an afternoon movie, whose name escapes me, and we wanted to spend the rest of the day bendering it up around the area.
The level of abuse was quite extensive. It can only be explained by a picture of a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts* and a bottle of the then-legal ephedra supplement Yellowjackets ("Feel the Sting!").
* To give an idea of how the night went, at the second-to-last bar, I said "when we get home we should eat all those Krispy Kreme donuts." To which Erik's face turned into a look of shock and he responded, "But Mike, we've already ate all those donuts." This should also give you an idea of how my next morning went, which was not well.
We started at the highly-recommended, willing-to-put-up-with-a-lot Berwyn locale The James Joyce. After getting too drunk to drive, we called a certain man named Andrew, who, god bless him, left his Mom's birthday party early to pick us up from across town. Except he then forfeited his role as designated driver, because shortly after he arrived we had him full of so much whiskey that he couldn't drive (or hold a shot glass, of which he broke one). We needed to get a taxi.
What we got was a large, Jamaican man with a thick accent, who really enjoyed talking with us. As I was going through a bit of a relationship struggle at that point, I asked him for his advice on the situation. After mumbling out the quick facts, he cut me off by asking:
Cab Driver: Does she fuck you good, man?
Me: Ummm, sure.
Cab Driver: If she fucks you good, you make her your wife. You keep many girlfriends on the side.
We really had no idea of how to react to that, except to demand he take a picture with us so we would remember the exchange in the morning. That picture looks like this:
It's funny, because from a thousand different cultural texts ranging from "Sex in the City" to every "romantic comedy" staple throughout the decades, there's this real assumption of "the wise old cab driver who gives Important Romantic Advice that saves the day." He probably thought he was acting out this role as he was talking to us.
But he wasn't. The advice – stay in a bad relationship and make it better by cheating a lot – is the exact worst advice you could ever give a human being. But he didn't think so. And in a way, that makes me very happy.
Liz says:
I have heard this story many times and am delighted that I now have illustrations to go with it.
Ed says:
That man has wife, and she fuck him good. He has many girlfriends on the side.
ALSO, please note that one of the Krispy Kremes disappeared and was never accounted for.
erik says:
Also important to note: The reason we were in the taxi to begin with was nothing as noble as getting home safely. We decided to take a 25 dollar cab ride to get cheap drinks at Tumans. After consuming one PBR each, we decided it was lame and took a cab (with said Jamaican man) back to the James Joyce- thus making them three of the most expensive PBRs ever consumed.
mike says:
1) Erik, for the life of me, I've been trying to remember the movie that we saw that day, but I can't.
2) Calculated the next day, the $19/drink we spent for three PBRs at Tuman's is the most i've ever ended up paying for a drink. We were too drunk to appreciate Tuman's – it's a tough bar to stumble into; you need it to start the night.
It was almost bested by the proposed $21.25/drink on Liz's birthday at a bar named Yogi's. However the lame-ass tool of a bartender fell back on his agreement to let us order four more drinks past bar time with a bribe of $85 (see http://www.ginandtacos.com/trip.html for more details).
3) Ed, there is signficant debate on what happened to the Patriotic Boston Kreme Pie donut (it was patriotic because it had red/blue flags and stars on it). The general consensus is that I ate it while hiding in my room (long story), but I believe I thought it was a force of evil and hide it.
I don't remember eating it. But to be fair, I don't remember eating any donuts that night.
Ed says:
"I don't remember eating it, but I don't remember not eating it."
I believe you saw "The whole 9 yards" or its sequel…..or maybe "10 things i hate about you'…..something like that. Something awful.
Samantha says:
Speaking of Jamaican wisdom, when he was in high school, my ex-husband used to work with this Jamaican guy who had "a wife who fuck him good and lots of girlfriends." His wife had four or five kids, and one day John asked him if that was why had the girlfriends, you know, because her hoo-ha was out of shape. The Jamaican guy said, "No way, mon. That thing just snap right back like elastic. They should make tires out of that shit."
That guy should totally drive a cab.
erik says:
Mike, I would be more than happy to tell you the name of the movie that we saw. However, seeing as that the whole point behind our all day drinking binge (the movie was a matinee) was to forget having ever seen such a horrible excuse for a movie, I am not sure I should. Obviously the plan worked far better for you than it did for me.
Andrew says:
Because I was included in said evening I feel it's important to note why I was willing to pick you up only after seeing…I believe…Crossroads. The Britney Spears film about life and choices. Really I suppose it was a metaphor for the entire evening. Mike was confronted by relationship conundrum and was given advice that would lead him down the wrong fork.
K says:
Samantha: hoo-ha?
Andy, thanks for declaring the movie; it really adds depth to a classic. I've always wondered why Mike seems to have a soft spot for 10 Things I Hate About You (I can't remember why I think that…some conversation sometime), and for a moment I thought my questions were answered. If only that were true.