Читать книгу Confessions of a New York Taxi Driver - Eugene Salomon - Страница 10

…and start all over again.

Okay, admit it. Sure you want stories about crime, hustlers, eccentric people and the gritty charm of New York City. But the first thing you want is sex. So let’s confront this like adults, shall we? Once we get this sex chapter out of the way we can all breathe a lot easier and then move on to loftier pursuits.

So, do people have sex in taxis?

Yes. Not nearly so often as you’d think if you’ve ever seen the Taxicab Confessions program on TV, but, yes, it does happen. There are three stages.

1. Cuddling – two passengers get in and sit quite close to each other in the back seat. A head may rest upon the other’s shoulder. There is some polite kissing. It’s all within the bounds of acceptable public behavior.

2. Foreplay – there is suspicious movement going on in the rear. The kissing is passionate. There is no interest in any conversation with the driver. You look in the mirror and, where there were once two heads, there is now only one. They’re doing something with their hands, but you’re not sure what. It’s time to adjust the mirror and turn off the radio.

3. Outright fucking – if there are three and a half million people in Manhattan at any given time, then there must be something like two million beds. But apparently that is not enough. When a couple assumes the ‘taxicab position’ – the guy sits facing forward and the girl straddles him, facing the rear window – then you know they’re adding ‘taxicab’ to their list of places where they’ve ‘done it’.

One of the age-old questions is how should the driver react when he realizes that, only five feet behind him, and separated merely by a Plexiglas partition with an open window, the cucumber is entering the salad bowl? Should he consider this to be the epitome of rude behavior and throw the passengers out? Or should he take it as a compliment that they would feel so – what’s the word? –comfortable in his space?

With me, I do find it offensive but my level of resentment seems to depend on the way the passengers go about it. While I’ve never thrown anyone out of my cab for this most out of place conduct, I do get annoyed if they’re pretending I’m not even there. I have two ways of dealing with the irritation: 1) take extremely sharp left and right turns in an effort to knock the female off to the side; 2) charge them an extra ten dollars for the ‘hotel room’.

So it’s kind of oddly refreshing when a couple has such balls (sorry, couldn’t help myself) that they make no attempt to hide the fact that they are intending to have sex right there in the back seat and they tell me so as the ride begins. It went down that way one night in the East Village…