Do you believe my friend Pastor Joe had a heart attack right in-front of me! Yes that cracker ruined my date with some chic I was supposed to hook up with later that night. Instead I had to rush his ass to the hospital and babysit his ass for the last month. We didn't know that he experienced a mild heart attack until we got to the hospital and got him checked out.
I was off that night and I was at my apartment getting pimped up to go out when Pastor Joe took a break and stopped by to chill a little bit because he wasn't feeling well. The minute I saw him I knew something was wrong, he looked weak and so pale I thought Maryiln Manson was at my door. He kept complaining of having a heartburn and refused to go to the hospital but when he started to sweat like crazy, I grabbed his ass and drove him to George Washington Hospital emergency room.
I thought when you have a heart attack you supposed to have a sharp pain at the chest, you moan and you drop to the floor. Pastor didn't have any of that shit and I was surprised when the doctors came out and told me what happened. All that greasy crap that you ate finally paid off motherfucker! Don't worry he will be fine, he just need to adjust to some lifestyle changes and he will be alright. He is way too young to check out but I hope this will be a wake-up call to all of you motherfuckers who eat shit and don't exercise at all.
Sorry for not posting for the last four weeks, I was busy being a nurse to the Pastor because his white trash friends were nowhere to be found. Pastor Joe, next time you have a heart attack please make sure it's in the month of August when the cab business is very slow bitch!
Please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
Showing posts with label pastor joe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pastor joe. Show all posts
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
NEW YEARS EVE PARTY
I got to the Bunker few minutes after midnight and I met Pastor Joe and "Wheel Chair Jerrome" smoking cigarettes outside. You all know my best and dysfunctional friend Pastor Joe, there is no need to introduce him. My man Jerrome is an old friend and a computer geek on a wheel chair for the last fifteen years. The story goes that some pissed off nigger shot his ass when he found out that Jerrome was fucking his woman and his sister. That ended Jerrome's famous break dancing skill for good because Jerrome ended up being paralyzed from the waist down. If you ask me, that's the best thing that has ever happened to Jerrome because he was extremely smart but a no good motherfucker who was going to end up dead or locked up in prison. Instead he decided to go to college and earn a couple of degrees and now he is in to network security field and making a good living.
I left those clowns outside and proceeded to the shady ass entrance of the Bunker. I knocked on the door and Al the bouncer let me in after he yelled at me for the reason I didn't know, when Al gets drunk no one understands what the fuck he says, so I just high fived him and moved on inside the social club!
The Bunker is a hidden place in the middle of nowhere where the night owls meet, like the bartenders after they close their bars, where hookers stop by between their tricks, where dancers go after they're done with their gigs and where some of DC's shady ass characters assemble. Don't try to google this joint, you won't find it, it's like a members only country club for creepy ass motherfuckers. Last call in this joint is when the fucken sun rises and drinks are technically free you just have to make a reasonable donation for this dump's historic site preservation fund.
The place was packed and more people were pouring in. I met friends I haven't seen for years, I was happy to see Andre, a Russian dude who did time for few years for pretending to be an immigration lawyer. I remember few years back I drove couple of Russian immigrants to his office, I thought he was a real lawyer, even though he was sharing an office space next to a used tire shop, that didn't alarm me at all. Andre said prison wasn't that bad, he killed time by reading hate mails from some of his deported Russian clients in Moscow.
As soon I was getting comfortable Pastor Joe dragged my ass outside so that we can carry Jerrome and his wheelchair in the club since the fucken death trap establishment is not wheelchair accessible. Jerrome looked like a proud Egyptian King Tut carried by two retards when he made his grand entry to the club, it was a pretty funny scene. Then I run into Fred who was rushing to get out of there and I said, "What the fuck Fred, the party just started, where the fuck are you going?" He said "I got to roll Mad Cabbie, I have a car hooked up on my tow truck and I have to drop it at the lot, happy new year motherfucker! and don't worry I will be back later on" and he rushed out. Later I learned that he repossessed a jeep earlier in southwest and just stopped by the club to pick up some weeds. Talking about weeds, there was this dude wearing a Santa hat walking around with a small diaper bag full of weeds and passing them out like cookies, that place was wicked man!
I described these people because unfortunately we all ended up in the same pickup truck when the party came to an end. It was a great party, everyone had a good time and everything went without a glitch until it was time to go and the nephew with a van that supposed to pick up Wheelchair Jerrome didn't show up because it overheated! The area we were at, let alone wheelchair accessible cabs, even cops don't show up if you cry out for help so we need to do quick thinking to transport Jerrome. Fred was climbing on his pickup truck (came back with the pickup truck after he dropped off the tow-truck) and I had to beg him for a ride after I explained our situation with Jerrome. To my surprise Fred agreed to give us a ride! Wheelchair Jerrome lives all way out in Virginia off the Dulles toll road to be near his work, he pretty much wheel himself to his office. So that was really nice of Fred to do that for us, he even refused to accept gas money.
Fred had his girlfriend and another chic sat in the front with him. The rest of us sorry ass drunks, Pastor Joe, Russian Andre, Wheelchair Jerrome and I sat outside on the bed of the truck! Boy it was freaken cold and we looked like fucken migrant farm workers huddled up and holding tight to that wheelchair so that Jerrome don't fly his crippled ass all over route 66 west.
The forty minutes trip felt like forty days, everyone that passed us on the road were laughing their asses off! Even couple of Virgina State Police couldn't stop laughing when they saw us at the toll both. Finally we got to Jerrome's place, threw his drunk ass on his bed and we took off. Fred was nice enough to drop us off in DuPont and he moved along in to PG county Maryland with his ladies to enjoy that weed he stashed at home.
Andre, Pastor and I, three fucking frozen losers with no women on a new years morning, walked to my apartment and crashed! But you know what? It is going to be a GREAT year, I am feeling it!
Please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
I left those clowns outside and proceeded to the shady ass entrance of the Bunker. I knocked on the door and Al the bouncer let me in after he yelled at me for the reason I didn't know, when Al gets drunk no one understands what the fuck he says, so I just high fived him and moved on inside the social club!
The Bunker is a hidden place in the middle of nowhere where the night owls meet, like the bartenders after they close their bars, where hookers stop by between their tricks, where dancers go after they're done with their gigs and where some of DC's shady ass characters assemble. Don't try to google this joint, you won't find it, it's like a members only country club for creepy ass motherfuckers. Last call in this joint is when the fucken sun rises and drinks are technically free you just have to make a reasonable donation for this dump's historic site preservation fund.
The place was packed and more people were pouring in. I met friends I haven't seen for years, I was happy to see Andre, a Russian dude who did time for few years for pretending to be an immigration lawyer. I remember few years back I drove couple of Russian immigrants to his office, I thought he was a real lawyer, even though he was sharing an office space next to a used tire shop, that didn't alarm me at all. Andre said prison wasn't that bad, he killed time by reading hate mails from some of his deported Russian clients in Moscow.
As soon I was getting comfortable Pastor Joe dragged my ass outside so that we can carry Jerrome and his wheelchair in the club since the fucken death trap establishment is not wheelchair accessible. Jerrome looked like a proud Egyptian King Tut carried by two retards when he made his grand entry to the club, it was a pretty funny scene. Then I run into Fred who was rushing to get out of there and I said, "What the fuck Fred, the party just started, where the fuck are you going?" He said "I got to roll Mad Cabbie, I have a car hooked up on my tow truck and I have to drop it at the lot, happy new year motherfucker! and don't worry I will be back later on" and he rushed out. Later I learned that he repossessed a jeep earlier in southwest and just stopped by the club to pick up some weeds. Talking about weeds, there was this dude wearing a Santa hat walking around with a small diaper bag full of weeds and passing them out like cookies, that place was wicked man!
I described these people because unfortunately we all ended up in the same pickup truck when the party came to an end. It was a great party, everyone had a good time and everything went without a glitch until it was time to go and the nephew with a van that supposed to pick up Wheelchair Jerrome didn't show up because it overheated! The area we were at, let alone wheelchair accessible cabs, even cops don't show up if you cry out for help so we need to do quick thinking to transport Jerrome. Fred was climbing on his pickup truck (came back with the pickup truck after he dropped off the tow-truck) and I had to beg him for a ride after I explained our situation with Jerrome. To my surprise Fred agreed to give us a ride! Wheelchair Jerrome lives all way out in Virginia off the Dulles toll road to be near his work, he pretty much wheel himself to his office. So that was really nice of Fred to do that for us, he even refused to accept gas money.
Fred had his girlfriend and another chic sat in the front with him. The rest of us sorry ass drunks, Pastor Joe, Russian Andre, Wheelchair Jerrome and I sat outside on the bed of the truck! Boy it was freaken cold and we looked like fucken migrant farm workers huddled up and holding tight to that wheelchair so that Jerrome don't fly his crippled ass all over route 66 west.
The forty minutes trip felt like forty days, everyone that passed us on the road were laughing their asses off! Even couple of Virgina State Police couldn't stop laughing when they saw us at the toll both. Finally we got to Jerrome's place, threw his drunk ass on his bed and we took off. Fred was nice enough to drop us off in DuPont and he moved along in to PG county Maryland with his ladies to enjoy that weed he stashed at home.
Andre, Pastor and I, three fucking frozen losers with no women on a new years morning, walked to my apartment and crashed! But you know what? It is going to be a GREAT year, I am feeling it!
Please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
SPECIAL OPERATION
Didn't I tell you last night that I will be rolling with dough? I was right man! I didn't have time to hit that Indian food joint because as soon I drove out of my apartment, BINGO! The first fare, gay couple who wanted to go to Pentagon City, and by the time I slowed down it was close to mid-night and it was too late for me to eat so I settled for a stupid apple that I brought from home.
I started to get real busy again around one o'clock. There are about 12,000 cardiovascular specialist from all over the world in Washington DC for a convention and business was rocking. It might be a good time to have a heart attack for the next few days in Washington, because every bum you see at corner is a cardiologist. Most of my passengers were Europeans and at one point I thought I was driving a cab in Tel-Aviv or something!
"Mad you idiot, Tel-Aviv is in the middle-east you dump ass! You're just another ignorant American!"
Whatever dude, and please don't interrupt my story please! So around two o'clock Pastor Joe calls me to cover a special operations work for him and I was in no mode for that shit. I didn't want to deal with hookers, Johns, dope dealers or anything of that nature because I was busy stuffing cash in my pocket doing local short trips.
PASTOR: What up Zebra, what's rolling?
MAD: I am hustling man, I am on 19th and Benning! What the fuck you want?
PASTOR: I want you to pick up "Blind man Dan" for me ASAP!
MAD: Fuck no Pastor! I don't want to deal with that freak, besides I am on a roll right now. Why can't you do it?
PASTOR: Stop counting those pennies nigger! This run is an easy C note motherfucker!"
MAD: Listen I am in no mood to drive that blind freak and listen to his conspiracy theories and shit! why don't you call your cracker friend "High Tech Ben"?
To make the long story short I just couldn't say no to the Pastor.
"Blind Man Dan" is a fat white dude in his forties who comes up with all kind of conspiracy theories for every little shit. He thinks Obama is a planted cell made by the Chinese and North Koreans! The story goes when Dan was nine years old an elephant stepped on his ass during an African safari with his parents, and he went blind ever since. He is a trust fund baby, he comes from an extremely wealthy family but works for the Fed just to get out of his expensive condo. He is one of Pastor Joe's regular customers and I have occasionally done this job before.
Let's call this woman Julie. Julie lives in her own house in Takoma Park, little on the chubby side but an attractive blond woman in her mid to late thirties who is a physical therapist by day and does exotic massages and may be more at night. Her specialties are with disabled people and if there are any horny dudes on wheel chairs out there please Call uncle Mad, I will hook you up bro!
We got to Julie's crib around 2:30 am with "Blind Man Dan" and as soon we got there she flashed the living room light and that means "Come on in, the door is unlocked!" I grabbed Dan by his arm and we got in, and when Julie saw me she said, "What the fuck did you do to your hair Mad? I don't like this at all!" It's the first time she saw my new short hair-style, and she is not the only one with that opinion. The only person who likes my hair now is my mother.
I sat in the living room watching TV while they went upstairs to do there thing. It was so ironic that they were showing a re-run episode of COPS on TV, and it was about an anti-prostitution sting operation by Dallas undercovers! The whole time I was there I was getting paranoid of being busted by Takoma Park police with a freakin COPS filming crew in the background.
Sitting there I was so proud of my college education! Not one but two college degrees, my higher learning at work staring at that stupid TV, waiting for a fat blind man at three in the morning while he's getting his balls greased! What a beautiful life man!
Let me count my cash from last night now and please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
I started to get real busy again around one o'clock. There are about 12,000 cardiovascular specialist from all over the world in Washington DC for a convention and business was rocking. It might be a good time to have a heart attack for the next few days in Washington, because every bum you see at corner is a cardiologist. Most of my passengers were Europeans and at one point I thought I was driving a cab in Tel-Aviv or something!
"Mad you idiot, Tel-Aviv is in the middle-east you dump ass! You're just another ignorant American!"
Whatever dude, and please don't interrupt my story please! So around two o'clock Pastor Joe calls me to cover a special operations work for him and I was in no mode for that shit. I didn't want to deal with hookers, Johns, dope dealers or anything of that nature because I was busy stuffing cash in my pocket doing local short trips.
PASTOR: What up Zebra, what's rolling?
MAD: I am hustling man, I am on 19th and Benning! What the fuck you want?
PASTOR: I want you to pick up "Blind man Dan" for me ASAP!
MAD: Fuck no Pastor! I don't want to deal with that freak, besides I am on a roll right now. Why can't you do it?
PASTOR: Stop counting those pennies nigger! This run is an easy C note motherfucker!"
MAD: Listen I am in no mood to drive that blind freak and listen to his conspiracy theories and shit! why don't you call your cracker friend "High Tech Ben"?
To make the long story short I just couldn't say no to the Pastor.
"Blind Man Dan" is a fat white dude in his forties who comes up with all kind of conspiracy theories for every little shit. He thinks Obama is a planted cell made by the Chinese and North Koreans! The story goes when Dan was nine years old an elephant stepped on his ass during an African safari with his parents, and he went blind ever since. He is a trust fund baby, he comes from an extremely wealthy family but works for the Fed just to get out of his expensive condo. He is one of Pastor Joe's regular customers and I have occasionally done this job before.
Let's call this woman Julie. Julie lives in her own house in Takoma Park, little on the chubby side but an attractive blond woman in her mid to late thirties who is a physical therapist by day and does exotic massages and may be more at night. Her specialties are with disabled people and if there are any horny dudes on wheel chairs out there please Call uncle Mad, I will hook you up bro!
We got to Julie's crib around 2:30 am with "Blind Man Dan" and as soon we got there she flashed the living room light and that means "Come on in, the door is unlocked!" I grabbed Dan by his arm and we got in, and when Julie saw me she said, "What the fuck did you do to your hair Mad? I don't like this at all!" It's the first time she saw my new short hair-style, and she is not the only one with that opinion. The only person who likes my hair now is my mother.
I sat in the living room watching TV while they went upstairs to do there thing. It was so ironic that they were showing a re-run episode of COPS on TV, and it was about an anti-prostitution sting operation by Dallas undercovers! The whole time I was there I was getting paranoid of being busted by Takoma Park police with a freakin COPS filming crew in the background.
Sitting there I was so proud of my college education! Not one but two college degrees, my higher learning at work staring at that stupid TV, waiting for a fat blind man at three in the morning while he's getting his balls greased! What a beautiful life man!
Let me count my cash from last night now and please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
Monday, December 17, 2007
GREEN CARD IN THREE HOURS
Few years ago, few minutes after midnight I picked up this Latino dude from the Greyhound bus station in North East. With a broken heavy accent English he asked if I know where some Spanish dudes who sold fake green cards (a permanent resident ID card) People ask me for all kind shit but a fake green card was the first and I didn't know what to tell him. I really didn't want to get involved because I am scared to go to prison, but at the same time me being the predator of the streets I want to make some cash as well. So I called Pastor Joe:
MC: Hello Pastor, what's up?
PJ: What the fuck you want Zebra? I am trying to get laid!
MC: I thought you're out hustling Pastor?
PJ: Make it quick motherfucker, what is it?
MC: You know where I can get a Green Card?
PJ: I thought you're an American citizen?
MC: Not for me asshole, I have some dude in the back seat.
PJ: You call yourself a cabbie and don't know where to get a fucken green card?
MC: Stop bitching bitch and tell me were to go!
PJ: Drive him to Ontario and Columbia and when you get to...
I took my new Latino friend to Adams Morgan around Ontario and Columbia frequented by some young Colombian dudes roaming the streets all night long. I gave him my number so he can call me as soon as his green card gets approved and issued by the street thugs and I could give him a ride back to the bus station. My determined passenger had no fear at all, after I dropped him off he quickly disappeared in to the dark ally.
Over an hour passed and I didn't hear from him, I thought he was dead or something so I moved on and stopped by some joint to get an ice cream. Almost three hours later my phone rang and sure enough it was my man with a happy tone in his voice asking me if I can pick him up and drive him back to the station.
He showed me his new green card on our way to the Greyhound. I don't know man, it looked real and perfect to me, with his picture and everything. Next time I see my blogger friend Lizzie I will ask her to show me hers to see how a real green card looks like and compare!
Excuse me Mad! you fucken idiot, Lizzie is an American who was born and raised in Orange county, California! You are a typical ignorant jackass who thinks every Latin person in America is an immigrant.
Alright! alright! everyone calm down please, I didn't know that! To be honest with you Lizzie is whiter than the queen of England, I need to look in to her claim of being a Latina.
Finally I dropped my Norfolk bound happy Latino friend at the station and we said our good byes. I hope he is doing well now and got his shit straight. But later on I hear that hot spot in Adams Morgan used to be a well known shady corner visited by undocumented Latinos, Indians and Pastor's Russian girlfriends until the operation was busted by INS few years back.
Please no emails about how to get phony green cards, I don't want the SWAT team from ICE all over me and water-board my sorry ass in Guantanamo Bay.
Please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
MC: Hello Pastor, what's up?
PJ: What the fuck you want Zebra? I am trying to get laid!
MC: I thought you're out hustling Pastor?
PJ: Make it quick motherfucker, what is it?
MC: You know where I can get a Green Card?
PJ: I thought you're an American citizen?
MC: Not for me asshole, I have some dude in the back seat.
PJ: You call yourself a cabbie and don't know where to get a fucken green card?
MC: Stop bitching bitch and tell me were to go!
PJ: Drive him to Ontario and Columbia and when you get to...
I took my new Latino friend to Adams Morgan around Ontario and Columbia frequented by some young Colombian dudes roaming the streets all night long. I gave him my number so he can call me as soon as his green card gets approved and issued by the street thugs and I could give him a ride back to the bus station. My determined passenger had no fear at all, after I dropped him off he quickly disappeared in to the dark ally.
Over an hour passed and I didn't hear from him, I thought he was dead or something so I moved on and stopped by some joint to get an ice cream. Almost three hours later my phone rang and sure enough it was my man with a happy tone in his voice asking me if I can pick him up and drive him back to the station.
He showed me his new green card on our way to the Greyhound. I don't know man, it looked real and perfect to me, with his picture and everything. Next time I see my blogger friend Lizzie I will ask her to show me hers to see how a real green card looks like and compare!
Excuse me Mad! you fucken idiot, Lizzie is an American who was born and raised in Orange county, California! You are a typical ignorant jackass who thinks every Latin person in America is an immigrant.
Alright! alright! everyone calm down please, I didn't know that! To be honest with you Lizzie is whiter than the queen of England, I need to look in to her claim of being a Latina.
Finally I dropped my Norfolk bound happy Latino friend at the station and we said our good byes. I hope he is doing well now and got his shit straight. But later on I hear that hot spot in Adams Morgan used to be a well known shady corner visited by undocumented Latinos, Indians and Pastor's Russian girlfriends until the operation was busted by INS few years back.
Please no emails about how to get phony green cards, I don't want the SWAT team from ICE all over me and water-board my sorry ass in Guantanamo Bay.
Please don't forget the homeless,
Mad Cabbie.
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