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Monday, April 28, 2008



Vernon Roza


Thursday, April 24, 2008


Another second hand cab story

Warning: Adult Content

I read and re-read this piece and I think it is important to clarify this story was told by a female cab driver. I think that bit of knowledge is relevant to the story.
A driver picked up this chick who is known to rarely have money. Generally, she only takes cabs when there is a john who will pay her cab fare when she arrives. It is always good to call the john to ensure he is expecting to pay the cab fare.
She got into my cab and I immediately knew she had money. She had been walking the streets for hours and must have given several blow jobs.... I could smell it on her breath. Without having to ask she took some money out of her purse, waved it around, and said, "I have money tonight. Take me to (a certain drug infested apartment building)."

I knew it was the decoy money* long before I heard here counting out her change in the backseat.

Chick: Do you care if I pay with a couple dollars in change?

It just so happened that on that particular day the driver had brought a bunch of change into work, planning to sort it with the change counter at the Fred Meyer store.

Driver: I'll tell you what honey, today, and today only, I will not only let you pay your cab fare with change, I will buy all your change and give you paper bills for it.... That way you can feel like a real high-roller in the crack house.

Chick: Wooooooohoooooo. She threw her arms up and proceeded to do a jig in the back seat.

* Drug dealers don't like to take loose change. Crackheads will often show paper money to the cab driver, but pay with loose change in order to retain the paper money for drugs. - Decoy money.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008


And you thought Alaska was all about whales, glaciers, towering peaks and grandeur.... and by request, a special addition for Iain

Dispatcher: I have a trip at Rozak Pawn. Want it?

New Driver: Sure.

Dispatcher: Are you familiar with Rozak?

New Driver: No, but I have a map and a phonebook. I ought to be able to find it.

Dispatcher: If you aren't familiar with this address you will need more help than you can find in a phonebook.

Truer words have never been spoken. This story may not be unique to Alaska, but it certainly has Alaskan flavor.

For background, Rozak Pawnshop burnt down 10+ years ago. There is a nearby apartment complex that is still referred to as "Rozak Pawn" by cabdrivers.

Dispatcher: Are you familiar with the Fantasyland porn shop?

New Driver: Yes.

Dispatcher: The first road past Fantasyland is Rozak Road. Take a right on Rozak, then take an immediate left. This will put you on a goat trail that leads back into the woods. Follow the goat trail around for a ways. When it looks like you are in the middle of a junk yard.... keep going. Follow the goat trail through the junk yard. When you get back a ways you will see a building that looks like it may have been inhabited 20 years ago, or possibly a lean-to that a meth cook erected in the middle of nowhere. That is actually an apartment building. When you get there lay on the horn until someone comes out.

Perfect instructions.

I still remember the first time I picked up at Rozak Pawn.

Dispatcher: Are you there yet?
Me: I...... don't think so.
Dispatcher: Where are you?
Me: Well... I'm back in the woods. All I see are piles of tires.
Dispatcher: That's the place. Start honking.

For Iain:

For the Google satellite view, click here.

South side of the Richardson Highway. East side of Rozak road. It's hard to tell, but the building in question is hidden behind piles of junk. I didn't realize it until I saw the satellite view, but the junk extends pretty far back into the woods.

Sunday, April 20, 2008


The More Things Change The More They Stay The Same

Musical interlude by the Hag.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008


Recent cab conversations

Nothing uproarious here. Just stuff that amused me.

Drunk: Blah blah blah Bush blah blah worst economy, blah blah blah Bush. I'm not an economist but I can tell you without a doubt that we're headed for another depression. This will be the 1950s all over again.

You got money tonight?
Of course I have money. You have me mistaken for someone else. I've never taken your cab before.
You live at 123 45 St.?
It's 122 45 St. And my boyfriend was supposed to pay that night.
So.... we agree that I've given you a ride before?
......It wasn't me that didn't pay you. It was my boyfriend.
So.... you got money tonight?
F*** you! I'll call someone else.

Take me home?
Where do you live?
I DON'T NEEEEEEEED YOUR SHIT! Just take me home.
Whereabouts do you live?
F*** YOU. I'm walking.

Drunk referring to the polar bear that was shot many hundreds of miles from its natural habitat: Too bad they killed it, that bear could have told us lots about global warming.

Poor guy. I dropped a crack whore off at his place, and she refused to pay the cab fare. She started yelling and causing a scene in the middle of the night in the hallway of his apartment building. Shhhh. Keep it down.
Me: Buddy, if I don't get paid, I'm calling the cops.
Him: You don't need to do that.
Me: Yes, I do.
Crack whore: (Loudly) BLAH BLAH BLAH
Him: SHHHHHHH. People are sleeping.
Crack whore: BLAH BLAH BLAH
Him: (To me) Why you doing this to me?
Me: Why am I doing what to you? I don't have a problem with you.
Him: You need to be quiet.
Me: She's making all the noise.
Crack whore: BLAH BLAH BLAH
Him: Shhhhhh. This is too much drama.
Me: Look buddy, if you don't want drama in the hallway of your apartment building, you need to get a better class of whore.
Him: (Handing me some money) You are probably right. (Believe it or not, he even chuckled)

We didn't get to see the Northern Lights while we were here.
Really? They've been out the last few nights. Bright. Dancing all over the place.
That's what people were telling us. What part of the sky were they in?
Directly overhead.
Ohhhhh. Overhead? It was too cold to go outside. We were looking out of our hotel room window.

I hear Charlton Heston died.
Sure enough.
Who was he?

I looooove doing this one to people.
You are going the wrong way!
I'm sorry. Where did you need to go, again?
(Such and such address)
What way do you want me to go?
The short way. Don't take us the long way.
This is the short way.
I've never seen this street before.
Look.... You're going to Brenda's house, right?
.....Stunned silence Yeah. We're going to her house.
When we get there we can ask her how much it costs to get from the Mecca Bar to her house. It should be about $5.70.
(The next question is invariably) Sooooo, how long you been drivin'?

Two tangentially related stories that need to be read together.

Bartender at the Arctic Bar called for a cab on a night the bar was friggin' packed.
Did you call for a cab for someone?
Yeah. Where did he go? He was right here..... I don't see him.
Who was it?
White guy with curly hair.... I've never seen him before.
I'll look around.
Within ten seconds, amongst a packed throng of bar goers, I was able to identify the single "white guy" in the crowd. Yes, he was the person who needed a cab.

Very drunk, staggering man standing outside the Arctic Bar: Can I catch a ride?
Hop in.
Bastards won't serve natives at that bar.
.....Which... Bar?
This one.
The Arctic Bar?
(Fuming) I walked in and they turned me away without serving me. Bastards turned me away because I'm native... blah blah blah... lawyer... bigots... suing... blah... blah... natives should boycott...
Ummmm. The Arctic Bar refused to serve you because you are native?
Hell yes.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah. Whew. Hahahahahahahahaha. Ahhhhhhhhh. (Wipe tears from eyes) Perhaps they told you that you were too intoxicated to be in the bar?
NO! They said they don't serve natives! Blah blah suing... blah blah punitive damages.
Good luck with that lawsuit, buddy..... Hahahahahahahahaha...

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