Abuse of Emotions.

Sometimes when you talk with bartenders, you have the most fascinating conversations with them; in particular when the night is slow. I was in the East Village last night at Lunasa and a bartender named Kenny told me that we abuse our emotions. I didn't quite get it initially until he broke it down...and it was pure genius.

It's all good to be happy, sad, angry, etc. But it does seem as if we get so to the most minute things:

Being happy: It's one thing to be so. It's another to tell everybody about it. The two worst examples that I personally can think of is when someone is in a relationship or when someone just has a child. I read a status on Facebook the other day of a girl who writes that she loves her boyfriend and wants everyone to know. Yes it's cute but you can keep it between the two of yall; frankly very few others are gonna care. It's annoying as fuck. Then Kenny uses an example with someone who has a newborn child "Isn't he the cutest thing you ever seen?" What are we gonna say? No one is gonna say no. It's obviously a great feeling if say you got a job, got engaged/married, have a kid, etc. But to broadcast every little thing that makes you happy? Do you need that much love in the heart of the city?

Being upset/sad/angry: If someone close to you dies, yes you're naturally gonna be upset. Someone hurts you emotionally, you're not gonna be pleased. But it does appear we get upset over trivial things more often than not. We've learned to take everything for granted. "Cell phone is broken FML WHATEVER WILL I DO??" Technology has become something that we have learned that we cannot live without. Take the people of Haiti for example, especially in and around Port-Au-Prince. Most of them still don't have roofs over their heads and a hurricane may hit there by the end of the week. Now that's a reason to be upset/angry/sad. But crying because someone called you fat, KNOCK IT OFF. Wanting to "cut a dude's balls off because he cheated on you" bitch please, stop being so selfish and just move on to the next one. Easier said than done? Perhaps. But learn to keep your emotions in check.

Play on words: Some words in society are offensive as fuck there's no question. But for people to butt into conversations and say that they find a word offensive, sit your ass down. Unless it's directed towards you and you alone, you have no right to bitch and moan. If I tell a story and call someone a cunt in it, the word itself isn't offensive. A fuckin cunt? No difference. A bitch-made ass super-sized motherfucker god damn cunt? Still the same shit. People want us to say whatever is on our mind but the second we do they want to shut us up. WHICH ONE IS IT THEN??

Worst quote ever: "I want a strong yet sensitive man." A fuckin oxymoron. You say you want a man that is emotionless but yet can cry at a drop of a hat? What I miss?? I need the ladies to explain this quote to me.

America is an over-indulgent society. We drink to excess, smoke marijuana to excess (and not even know if what we're smokin is natural), eat to excess...and yes we are entirely too emotional. It's not needed to attach emotion to every single little thing. And so on.

Your Relationships vs. Your Money.

What sparked this topic was a question one of my girl friends asked me last week. Our schedules conflict and she wishes she could see me more often, but I have my work obligations to fulfill. She wanted me to take a day off for Halloween weekend and I told her that even though I'd love to, I can't pass up on making that cheddar.

Your relationships with your friends and family are obviously important. In a perfect world, that's all we would really have to worry about. With the way people's work schedules are nowadays; it leaves us precious little time for others, much less yourself. Face-to-face interaction has been decreased and really the only way I for example communicate with people often now is through digital means. However; one cannot afford to compromise their work schedule just to accommodate people. Don't get it twisted, my job I can technically make my own hours/own schedule but I need to be realistic. I make the most money on weekends. Am I gonna necessarily take a Saturday night off just to hang out with people if it's not a special occasion? No. If I hit up people to try and hang out on a Monday night at 9pm in the city to grab drinks and they have work the next morning, are they gonna come out? Most likely not, unless THEIR schedule allows for it. Your most meaningful relationships are with people who respect your schedule (and of course you overall).

Now to the question- what's more important, relationships or money? Long story short, what's one of the top things that strains relationships? Money (or the lack of it). Without having money to support yourself, how are you gonna be able to go out & have a good time with your friends? People that view it on the opposite side of the spectrum have a point. You can have all the money in the world but no one can travel the world alone for an extended period of time and feel whole. The thing is though, relationships come and go over time. The one constant is you and how you can sustain in the world..with money.

Not saying that I don't feel bad when people ask me out and I repeatedly tell them that I can't (and it's probably gotten to the point where people won't bother asking anymore) because I do. But your money is that, yours. You can't compromise it for other people unless you don't mind compromising yourself. And so on.

The Overuse of "Hater".

Oh where to begin? I blame Maino for all this mess with his "Hi Hater" song from a couple of years back. Now everyone has taken a word that used to have such a strong meaning and pussified it.

Example 1: "Haters are my motivators." Wait, what?? Don't get me wrong, it's good to be fueled to prove people who may doubt you wrong...but whatever happened to motivating yourself? Why would you think about people who obviously give less of a shit about you than a flushed toilet? Whatever happened to being motivated by peers, people you may have grown up looking up to, your parents and the ilk? These so called "haters" of yours aren't watching you 24/7 and in the words of Antoine Dodson "you can run and tell dat!"

Example 2: "Shoutout to my haters." Since when? Can you even name who they are? If not then what the fuck is the point? Last time I checked, we gave shoutouts on the radio and the ilk to our peeps.

Example 3: "Haters" in the context of disagreeing with an opinion. Why does it have to constitute "hatin?" What I miss?? This happens most when discussing somethin in the sports or entertainment realm. Per example, if someone brings up Drake and I say I don't like him because of his style or whatever- that makes me a "hater"? I'm supposed to like everyone and everything that I encounter? Isn't that hypocritical? Sure is. I DO think that if you can't respect an opinion or a hustle then that's "hatin" though.

One of the dumbest quotes I have ever stumbled upon not surprisingly was on Twitter. "If ur OVERLY critical of others career & ur not gettin paid 4 this profession ur not a critic ur just a HATER"- @RevRunWisdom. It's wrong for the common person to critique now?? C'mon son. It's as if no one is willing to take the heat (unless they're tryin to have em win a championship in NBA 2K11) yet at the same time they desperately want somethin to hang their hat on. Just because someone critiques somethin doesn't mean they're hinging on you. Quite the opposite, it's YOU that's obsessin over this "hater".

And this "Haters give me publicity" crap...KNOCK IT OFF. Yes, they do sort of. But it's highly unlikely that no one else gives a shit. If I smack the shit out of you in the middle of the forest (a public realm) and no one hears it or sees it- it's the same concept. What happened to thankin those who are worth a damn in your lives more so?

We are obsessed now with this "haters" shit. Hate, hate, hate. Then we turn around and complain "where's the love?" Spent it all. And so on.

DK's Taxi Cab Chronicles (from 3/20/10).

Before I continue with the tales of cabbie appreciation weekend...I'd like to forewarn yall that beginning Monday March 22nd I will no longer be posting my tales on the R-Block Blotter. The new webpage will be http://thebrokenmeter.wordpress.com (though I'll be getting rid of the ".wordpress" ish. For my faithful followers who read it through my Facebook RSS feed you'll still get the links posted onto my Facebook page.

I got off to an inauspicious start to my day at the airport. I decided to walk around for quite a bit thinking that the lines weren't moving all that quickly. Come to find out by the time I get to my senses..my cab is the only one on my line and about 5 or so lines had already left. FUUUUCKKKK ha. But I had a good feeling about the trip I was gonna get and lo and behold...I get this blonde chick headin into Manhattan. $56.25 after tip thank goodness.

The only person to briefly piss me off today was this simple hybrid DMX/Cam'ron lookin nigga around Broadway and 33rd street. He was in front of me & I guess he was trying to back up into a parking space so I did what I had to do and tried moving to my left. For some reason though this fucker punches my side window and starts bitchin. I can't hear a word he's saying but he's givin me the TO crying face. I snarled at him because I knew for a fact that if I was driving a private car you wouldn't dare touch the vehicle. What makes the fact I'm drivin a cab different?

My passengers of the day: This group of 5 that crams into my cab around Church & Walker street after I dropped off a pretty blonde (more on her later in the chronicle). A chick gets in the front this time (she did have a ring on it tho damn ha) and almost immediately she tells me I got some nice tunes on which I appreciate. Thank DJ Big Ben 12-4 Saturday Nights Hot 97. We kick it briefly talkin about she lives in DC and I'm a native. "Concrete jungle where dreams are made of!" Yes...there's nothin you can't do. Anyway, they work for the NY Red Bulls & had went to the game at the new stadium and were continuing their bar hopping for the night. She exclaims that I'm the coolest cab driver she ever encountered. What I do?? A guy that was in the back gives me a $20 and tells me TO KEEP IT ALL. The fare was $7.30. I love you (no homo).

Right after them (I'm now on Greenwich Ave & Perry Street at a place called Fiddlesticks...DON'T ASK) I pick up these older ladies most likely in their 40s heading back to their hotel on 49th and Lexington. I engage in a typical conversation about how I have the most stressful job in America and how I'm able to keep my cool. "You don't let anything get to you it seems like." I appreciate the compliment but the nigga moments I've envisioned in my head are countless. They ask me where's the best slice of pizza in town. I tell them that they haven't lived until they try Artichoke Pizza (14th between 1st and 2nd aves). Intriguingly enough one of them went to West Virginia and the other one went to Pittsburgh for college. They're best friends...but that's one thing they'll never agree on. West Virginians burn couches. I once again get called the coolest cab driver. Is this a trend?

I picked up these four broads around Gold Street who head to 21st and Broadway to some club. "Get on the FDR" I KNOW THAT YOU DIMWIT. What came out of my mouth though was "that was the plan all along". Because Hot 97 kept playing commercials I decided to put on 92.3 NOW. Ahh a Saturday Night Dance Mix this should be good. They tell me to put the volume up to the sounds of the Dush Dush Dush and one of the girls does her hands up fist pump. I get my fistpump on too. You hear the broads goin "woooooooo!" What other cab driver do you know who fistpumps while driving? I can't even have a bluetooth so why not.

As I've mentioned before some people buck stereotypes. This African-American family gets in my cab as I'm about to get the eff out of the Brooklyn Heights area to get back on the bridge. They take me to some random ass area...Throop Street and I forgot the cross street but I was not exactly somewhere where I wanted to be. Live in Bedford-Stuyvasant. After being directed by the mother their cab fare came out to about $10. But they tipped $2 and the dude even directed me on how to get back on the Williamsburg Bridge. And he dapped me. Black people love me again. I had to flip the off-duty light on though because I had no desire to stay within Brooklyn & I needed food so I went to the Mickey D's on Marcy. Hoodness gracious.

I get back into Manhattan and I pick up this Spanish woman. How she hailed the cab like she was waving a blanket to place back on my bed wasn't even the worst part...she is chompin down on her KFC meal and the aroma is gettin all up in my nose. Fuck, I'm not tryna get hungry again. She asks if I want some...I don't know where your hands have been and are you asking me because I love chicken? I don't even eat KFC though so no thank you. She tells me to get to 16th between 7th and 8th avenue. "You have to take 8th avenue up to 16th then make a right." I TOOK A FUCKIN GEOGRAPHY TEST AND WHO IS THE DRIVER?? WHO IS THE PASSENGER?? I KNOW THIS ALREADY!!! One of these days I might snap on a customer & tell them to drive themselves up somewhere if they really know how to. Until then however.

I pick up this family of 3 around Lincoln Center and they're headin to Lower Manhattan (this is right before the fistpumpers). They wanted to stop off at a wine shop (random) and then I had to head all. the. way. downtown. "Make a left on John Street please" THERE IS A ONE WAY POINTING LEFT ON JOHN STREET. Their fare came out to about $20 and I get $1 tip for my efforts. Holla.

DK's Bordello continues with this dude and seemingly his girlfriend getting in my cab trying to get to the west side. Next thing I know I'm lookin at my mirror and these muh fuhs are on some Young & The Restless soap opera type makeout scene where he's kissin her neck then she takes her arm around his head. And dahhhhh, eeeeeahhhhh. Ick. Then I see the chick's head disappear for a couple minutes. I hope this is not what I'm thinkin...and to be frank I really didn't want to know. It didn't happen, though. The broad kicks back & lays her damn feet on the top of one of my seats. Where's my Lysol? Their $13.50 ride gets rewarded with a $1 tip get the fuck out my cab.

This Punjabi MC assclown on 6th avenue is on the 2nd lane to the left and somehow someway...he decides to cut ALL THE WAY across the avenue to cut me off and pick up this couple. Really? REALLY?? Do you realize that that avenue has people BEGGING to be picked up and to do all of that to prevent me from pickin up a passenger was not needed. I'm glad he did though...because the next passenger I picked up was a chill dude tryin to go back to the east side. He goes on a spiel about his girlfriend (I can smell the weed on him all day ha) and how she's hella overprotective..needing to know like a week in advance when he's going out, etc. He asks me how he should approach it. I'm no relationship guru...my longest relationship is 6 months (but only 4.5 months really counted) but I'm guessin the best thing you do is talk it out & get to the root of the problem. Maybe she has trust issues? Maybe she's scared of the future of the relationship since things seemingly are goin really well right now? I don't know. But he appreciates my advice. I get a $4 tip from him.

This blonde chick gets in my cab around 8th and 32st street and tells me that "I have to go downtown but let me get out my phone so I can tell you exactly where." Fair enough. She got one of those Blackberry Storm phones & she immediately trashes it. I get confused though when she tells me that she doesn't like the trackball but she likes to be simple. There ain't nothin simple about a touchscreen sweetheart ha. She loves the fact that I'm a New York native and she tells me she was born & raised here also. We fist pound. We then converse about running away from home episodes which I thought was hella random yet intriguing. She mentions the word boyfriend. 10 second buzzkill ha. Apparently she had went to this concert at the Garden, I do NOT remember this guy's name but he's supposedly this modern-era Frank Sinatra. At the end of the ride "will you get mad at me if I pay credit card, because I've been yelled at before." Ha, I don't give a fuck how you pay me..never will. She shakes my hand upon leavin the cab. Damn I'm good.

These ppl in another cab yell towards my cab which scared the shit out of me ha...then ask if I'm the cash cab. Do I look like an effin cash cab ha? I can see why they asked I suppose, since my music was blastin.

I copped this girl's name yesterday...her name is JD and she works at B-Bar. I picked her up around there in that ruckus & I'm droppin her off back in Williamsburg. We get into an engaging convo about how bridge & tunnel nights are the devil and that while they're not shy about spendin $13 on shots of Patron there...that she'll only get $4 tip out of say someone spendin for 7 shots of it. Hella hella nice chick from the ROCK upstate. We agree that native New Yorkers are friendlier than out-of-towners who try too hard to adapt to our lifestyle & simply brag about being a "New Yorker" SIT YOUR ASS DOWN. She gives me $20 on a $13 ride. Next time I go to B-Bar I will return the favor.

These rich kids who I seriously doubt were even 18 get in my cab and go from Lexington & 39th by the W Hotel ALL THE WAY TO Ocean Parkway in Midwood I believe it is? They were pretty boring. When I pull up to Avenue T though, I'm pullin up next to a couple Benzes and a Bentley. No Beemers sorry. What. The. Fuck. Their cab ride was $35+tip= $41. "Do you have change for a $100?" Yall muh fuhs roll like that?? Yes I do but god damn.

"Crank it (Fabolous) the fuck up"- This white dude goin to St. Vincent's Hospital to go work. I was in tears for about 20 seconds.

My final passneger of the day was an African-American male who wanted to take me back to Brooklyn (St. Marks Avenue and Classon Ave). Sheeit, Bed-Stuy again...my stompin grounds I see. He tipped decently and whatnot which I was once again surprised about. Bed-Stuy at 3am is bad news. That off-duty light is my best friend although:
-Another Punjabi MC dude was trying to pull off and had his off-duty light on...but this Spanish broad is tryin hella hard to open the doors that he had locked. He VERY RELUCTANTLY lets her in and I think she is cussin him the fuck out ha. I was dyin. I feel Punjabi MC I really do...but hey that was one bad bitch.

Poll Question of the Day: What is more important to you? A smooth ride, even if it's a little slower...or a ride where the cabbie is swervin all over...but you get to your destination quicker?

And so on.

DK's Taxi Cab Chronicles (from 3/19/10).

Cabbie appreciation weekend seems to be rollin along quite nicely. I'm not sure what the deal is. I don't know if it's because I have an American accent, I drive calmly, if it's the nice weather or some type of combination...but people continue to tip very well. Do they secretly read my blog? Who knows, but you won't find me complaining aside from a few missteps.

To start my shift I'm at the JFK lot listenin to the conclusion of the Wofford-Wisconsin game when this Haitian dude in the next parking lane gets out and is talkin to some dude. He turns his back to him (but is facing my direction) and seemingly on cue with me facing his direction for a split second...whips his dick out & starts pissin right next to his cab. You THAT lazy to walk to the bathroom?? I know it's filthy but come the fuck on ha. Hopefully he didn't shake hands with his boy afterwards either. I could care less to know. I was traumatized for about 46 seconds tho.

I had a deja vu moment. Last Friday I was sent to Terminal 2 and the passenger I picked up was goin to East New York on New Jersey Avenue. Now, I'm being sent to Terminal 2 and this passenger I pick up is goin to East New York on New Jersey Avenue. As a matter of fact I think it's the same block also WTF. This guy though was Spanish and he tipped me 25%. But the main issue was that on Atlantic Avenue that street was closed off. Come to find out someone got shot & hella cops were searchin for the guy who did it. There was even a CBS2 chopper hoverin overhead. Doesn't summer start in June, not March? Needless to say when in ENY the off-duty light is on full blast.

This British dude gets in my cab & tells me to take him to Union Square. Another broad & her cronies would tell me the same shit later. Look...Union Square is a hella broad area, you need to be more specific about where you want me to drop you off at. As long as I see the words Union and Square that's where it's gonna be...I don't give a shit if it's 14th street or 17th street you're gonna have to deal with it. Anyhow the British dude pays with card and gives me a $0.00 tip. I tried so hard not to stifle my laughter bc it showed up on the meter. He felt bad however about it & that he forgot to add it. I get $2 tip. Nice recovery. The dumb broad & her cronies take a cab from 2nd and 14th to Union Square (4th and 14th) you have got to be kidding me. $4.30 but they give me $4. Whatever to be honest.

A lesson in idiocy took place around 745pm EDT. This broadicua initially hails a cab at 33rd street & 6th ave...then says nevermind...then as I'm about to pull off decides she wants to get in. Where you goin? "To the train station." Uh, which one? "6 train Park Avenue" The one on 33rd or 42nd Grand Central? "33rd." I have no problem with this obviously except for a few things:
1) It's 65 degrees out!
2) The station is 4 or 5 crosstown blocks away.
3) I can't even make a right turn on 34th street until 8pm so I have to go make it on 36th.
4) The bitch only had $5 to her name...which she doesn't tell me until I'm on Madison and 36th. "Sir I only got $5." How you gonna tell me this when as soon as you step in the cab it's $4 Mon-Fri between 4pm and 8pm. "I'm sorry sir." Maricon.
5) She was in need of burning some extra calories to put it nicely.
6) Her neck tattoo is tacky as fuck. Some chinese symbol...chinese tats are so 1999.

I guess I did have a problem with it, or 6. Her ride was $6.30 and since I only got the $5 it basically was a $4.50 ride for me. Fail.

Some people though are smart, even though it takes away some money from my ride. Broadway is a nightmare around the SoHo area and this chick wanted to take the cab to Spring street. We're stuck in traffic near Houston & she tells me she wants to get out...which is fine because Spring is 2 blocks away (albeit they're kinda long blocks but still..it's nice out).

The next dude that gets in my cab is carryin a TV that from what I know his gf bought but he had to pick up. I respect that. He goes on to tell me that he's a Cali boy, etc and that his dream is to own a Lamborghini. This was mentioned bc we saw one parked on 6th avenue in a chrome silver. Sleek shit. At a light he takes out his camera phone and shows me that he was doin 155 on the dash in a Subaru while drivin around the Sierra Nevada mountains. WTF?? I've hit 100 on the dash maybe twice..EVER.

Rules of cab engagement are simple. First come first serve. If you hail me from across the street & I stop; but someone else runs in before you get there...your loss. Time is money. Sure I want to be nice/cordial as possible but I gotta make moves.

This dude & his peeps get in and take me to 34th and 3rd from 11th and 1st. One of them asks me what my favorite 80s song is. I can't come up with any right now because the question came from left field. He asks me when I was born (1985) and the response: "WOW I thought I was young..I was born in 1981." Ohhh. Anyway, he tells me he went to NYU for graduate school and I tell him I went for my undergrad..but I'm jealous because he went to school at UMiami from 2000-2004. Talk about the football team for a bit & just how sick the 2001 squad was. He tells me that they're hella chill guys (I had a co-worker tell me the same thing about the football players while he was at The U also so it must be a trend).

One of the last groups of people I pick up were these Spanish peeps comin from Webster Hall. I immediately thought trouble but they asked to go to Penn Station. The 6 of em pack into my van. No they weren't goin to mow anyone's lawn. Big Pimpin comes on the radio & they tell me to blast it and they start singin the lyrics. I do too, and the guy in front goes "Hell yeah!" lmfaooo. They give me $10 on an $8.30.

I hit my goal around 2am & I see one of my boys standin outside of Nevada Smiths so I say fuck it lemme park & chill for a hot minute. Obviously I get asked if I have the cab on me or not. I do. One of my boys and his girlfriend ask for a ride to Brooklyn and they got it. Knowin I don't work for free, they get the ride and even tip me 25%. Life is good. I can go home in peace.

Drunky Saturdays begin at 415pm EDT so this should be good. And so on.

DK's Taxi Cab Chronicles (from 3/18/10).

Long-haul Thursdays were back at it again. It never fails...to the point where I ended my shift at midnight because I reached my goal, plus I got home at 4 last night and "didn't have enough sleep." I did sleep 6 hours but better safe than sorry.

My first passengers set a record for my most expensive trip. They were goin to this hotel in Jersey City from JFK ($94+tip= $100). The main thing that sucked about it was that I took the Lincoln instead of the Holland. My rate book friggin told me to take the former...even though I had a feeling it was the latter. He had no idea where it really was either so I had to ask a couple of people when I actually got to Jersey...but I eventually found it. The hotel was basically in "Newport".

I don't have anything bad to say about anyone today...with the brief exception of my final passenger who stayed on the phone for 3 minutes after I arrived at his stop (Grand Central Terminal). Twiddling my thumbs he finally tells me to go to LaGuardia. That's fine by me ($30+toll+tip= $43).

This black chick I pick her up around East Broadway & she got me goin to Alphabet City (7th btw B and C). Chill chick with a tongue ring lalalal. She tells me about the whole cabbies vs. niggas spiel which I obviously know and tells me about how she just moved from the BK out here. Nothin too crazy. She didn't tip like an average niggaette either. Her daughter who's probably 14-15? is waitin for her outside the apartment and the chick tells me that "my daughter think you look kinda cute." What I do?? Must be the fresh shapeup...or maybe because the sun went down. Either way.

There's always somethin about blondes and myself. Am I the new-era Tiger Woods of cabbies? Anyhow, this blonde tall sexpot comes in and takes me to the Upper East Side. She gets friendly & wants to start a conversation which I have no problem with. She was one of those chicks who you can tell loves her hairspray because I got it mixed up with a Glade Plug-In. The whole "taxi scam" story is discussed and I break it down to her. I even break down how most cabbies are treated like slaves by their garage owners which explains why some of them have done so (I'll explain this in a future post). She feels bad. I learn she's from Jersey. I coulda brought up the whole spiel about the woman there beggin to be the fattest in the world but I had forgotten. One of these days I'ma cop digits on the job. That day is still not today but she did tip $3 on a $10 ride.

I still can't get over how nice people were today. The fuck ha. Then again I didn't stay late enough tonight to pick up any drunkards. This most likely changes tomm beginning at 415pm EDT. I don't know if I'll get this lucky again.

And so on.

DK's Taxi Cab Chronicles (the passenger remix).

Today was my day off so this was my chance to put my fellow cabbies to the test.

First guy passed. I actually got picked up immediately (it was a Haitian I'm assuming) and went to my spot without incident. I gave him $5.10+tip=$7 because I know my role.

Second guy I went from Nevadas to Penn Station. He does a good job but I do notice that the taxi TV is broken. I should smell what that means but I'm gonna attempt to be a grade A jackass. I can't even do that. There's a Chase bank on 32nd and 7th ave and I tell the muh fuh to drop me off on the north side of 31st and 7th. He TURNS LEFT AND GOES SOUTH. I don't have a Capital One account you jackass. His credit card machine is "broken" and in fact it actually is because I couldn't touch the screen. But I know the whole situation. Capital One charges me $2.75 to use their machine. I gave him $8.30+tip=$10 but to never do that BS again because I drive a cab. He goes oh.

I know, not entertaining whatsoever but this was the muh fuh remix.

And so on.