by Carlson, JJ
This dog had attitude, even more than his master. This dog was giving me "the stare." Unmoving, unflinching and unblinking, I think. All I know is this dog knows he is “too cool for school.” Mr. Cool. You know, like the Fonzie. Was that a little leather jacket?
And, oh yeah, he was a beagle.
He was cool, man.
He was Snoopy.
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One lovely Saturday morning I was marveling at the quality weather we often enjoy. I was motoring down the Las Vega Strip looking at the extraordinary architecture that is my workplace. The sunshine to air quality ratio was so beautiful I was counting my blessings. So what's with everyone staring at the street like a parade is coming?
I think back two blocks and realize they have been lined up for all that distance and two blocks more. What's going on and what did I not know? Were they protesting? No. There wasn't a serious face in the whole bunch. Protestors are a serious bunch but these folks were smiling sheepishly. Okay, what does this many people agree on? Was it a church thing? Please, no, not in Vegas. I couldn't figure it out.
I saw the answer on my return trip. By now the 700 to 1000 people were all lined up on one side of The Strip holding an unbroken rope made of bras. Yes I said it and I will say it again, bras. I immediately thought someone is going to catch hell over this, but the police were smiling too. What's going on? I bet it involved the Guinness book, and come to think of it.
Men, women and children were all standing proudly, side by side, without a blush among them for over a mile. They were holding an unbroken chain of firmly tied bras of all colors, sizes and shapes. It turned out to be a demonstration of support against Breast Cancer. Best one I've ever seen. And, by the way, this was the happiest group of protestors I ever witnessed, live, or on TV.
Three years later the Breast Cancer demonstration was different but equally eye-catching. Three hundred bikini-clad babes marched down The Strip. The mayor was there for that one.
And you thought operating a vehicle under these conditions was easy.
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One day I drove down The Strip with a trunk full of human heads. Okay, they were Styrofoam and my cab was full of gay German hairdressers going to an international hairstyling competition. So their heads and wigs were lying in my trunk looking creepy. The gay German boys were getting their game faces on but their falsetto voices were making it a farce. I could not tell if they wanted to win or fall in love. They were dissing the French gays, of course, but it sounded so funny I almost laughed out loud.
So, of course, my next ride was the French gay hairdressers. I had to tell them about the Germans so I could see the sparks fly. When they finally figured out what I was saying they tried to spy on them through me. But that didn't work well because I don't speak French gay, either.
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The rider told me he was from Dubai. Well, "you must be so proud of the partnership between Dubai and MGM"s City Center Project?” It was the largest private construction project in America at nine billion dollars, six condo towers and a mega resort.
He said he was very proud since he was Dubai's Project Manager. He went on to say he knew the Sheik and the Royal family very well because he had been their chef. He said one day they asked him what would make him the happiest. When he told them he wanted to be an architectural engineer, they assisted his dream and several years later he had a Cornell degree and now he was here.
I wonder, was he a really that good a cook or a really that bad a cook?
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A Michael Jackson look-alike walked quickly down the street ducking into some doorways and popping out of others. He was one of the Superstars in the show at The Stratosphere until just recently when he became a headliner. Now, with the untimely death of the real Michael, he doesn't need to stir up the girls' screams walking on the street any more. He gets all he can handle in his own show. Miss you, Michael.
CELEBRITY SIGHTINGS
I was excited the first time I rolled up on the Wynn Hotel property. It had been five years in the making, what with 9/11 and Dot.Com crashes and recession. We had been told that this would be the ultimate luxury experience in Vegas, so I anticipated some big stars for the grand opening. I wasn't disappointed.
As my car rolled up the cobbled brick to the beautiful front entry area I saw nothing but the newest Royce and Bentley limousines. What I didn't imagine seeing was dogs, but there they were being led by security to sniff these same cars. Just as I started to wonder who they were securing I got my answer. Walking my way was the British billionaire owner of Virgin Airlines, Sir Richard Branson.
He had recently been in the news for announcing his purchase of the newest Boeing Airliner 767 and promising more direct flights to Vegas from the U.K. I sent a mental message to Richard. Sir, please look in the mirror. You are so pale, if you took a nap they would call an ambulance. He was the grayest human I have ever seen. Please Sir, get some pool time in Vegas or on your Island, or at least buy a tanning company. Think bronze, Sir Richard.
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Most sunny days have so many people walking down The Strip you find it hard to see any one person. And as you wait for the light to change it can be so crowded with pedestrians that an accidental slip of the brake could break legs. I usually put the car in park. As I cooled my heels one day I was entertained by a surprise celebrity sighting.
Walking across in front of me like the rest of the crowd was Donny Osmond the former TV and music star. He was being interviewed with a microphone and a cameraman chatting away like no big thing. I was surprised by his continued good looks and also his cool, doing business on the street. He and his sister, Marie Osmond, are, of course, headliner entertainers at the famed Flamingo Hotel. My wife and I had enjoyed them when they had their own TV show and now, here he was and he had his tan in great shape.
All of the drivers were especially careful with his ankles which was good since he went on to win the Dancing with the Stars show in 2009
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Carrot Top followed me into the new Palazzo Hotel one day. Of course he doesn’t know me from Adam but I was just a little intimidated, because he was driving his monster Hummer. It seemed to fit him fine since has become a workout nut and has buffed up to twice the size that we first saw him.
His prop comedy is famous now and just kills me. Sometimes I need some silly in my life. My favorite Carrot Top gag is in the Vegas airport instruction video when you are boarding the planes. The video says only one carry-on bag is allowed so he is shown hoisting a shoulder harnessed bag onto his back that looks as big as a twin bed mattress. He gets me every time.
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Another celebrity I enjoyed seeing up close crossed the street in front of my car, like a regular person. It was James Woods, star of the famous Vegas movie, Casino, about the downfall of the Mob in Vegas. Woods played the love interest of Sharon Stone whose husband was played by Robert DeNiro.
Recently James played the defense attorney turned prosecutor in "Shark." In this role he lived in a killer mansion, drove the hottest car on TV and dated the hottest women. He had the best job in Hollywood for three seasons until they cancelled the show. I think they were jealous.
Regardless of that, he is one of the most serious poker players in Hollywood. And he does well there, too. He had a lot of fun on the Celebrity Poker Tournament at the Palms Hotel that was televised so we got to enjoy it, too.
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Rita Rudner has found a new home on The Strip in her own showroom at Harrah's hotel. She lives in a penthouse across from the Hilton Hotel so I was not surprised to see her getting in her limo at the Fashion Show Mall loaded down with shopping bags. I learned a long time ago that shopping is hunting and fishing for women.
Rita is a big hit with her clean and very funny jokes suitable for families yet so cutting edge. Not two weeks later, I took a woman to Rita's building for a business meeting with her. Too bad, she didn't have something I could carry up for her.
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; I was starting to pull away from the Bellagio Hotel, and who walks in front of my car? Congressman Charlie Wilson.
I never before wanted so badly to park my car and buy someone lunch. Why? If you don't know him it is not your fault, because he may be the greatest unknown hero in America. At least until Tom Hanks played him in a tribute movie,” Charlie Wilson's War".
In the movie we find out that he was a mostly unknown U.S. Congressman from Texas. He made it his personal project to help the Afghani’s defeat the Russians in the 80's which helped topple the Communist government and knock down the Berlin Wall. That's all he did. And we're not told about it until 2007, during the unpopular war in Afghanistan.
No one was even noticing him walk into the hotel, alone. So I called the local gossip columnist to encourage him to get an interview and he said he wouldn't know him if he walked right up to him. I think that is sad. We should probably have already built a statue of him. Watch it happen after he is dead.
Note: Charlie Wilson died in 2010. Maybe now we will build a statue to honor him.
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It is always fun for cabdrivers to have a new hotel open in Las Vegas. A new hotel has new energy that is fresh and exciting for the visitors, even for veteran visitors who already know this town well. One evening shortly after the Palms Hotel opened I picked up four attractive young girls who wanted to see this new hotel.
They asked me a stock question, "Do you ever see any celebrities?" I stayed positive and said, "Oh yeah, especially at the newest hotels and you are on your way to the newest one in town." Sell it, baby, sell it. It was the truth... but man, what a stretch to get it to happen.
As we rolled up on the hotel property we were all shocked, me especially, given how many uneventful rides I had had. We saw one of the stars of the hottest TV show of the year, CSI, George Eads, walk in front of the cab.
"How's that, girls?" I milked it. They screamed and I didn't blame them one bit. I almost screamed myself. But that would have blown my cool cabdriver thing.
So as I was thinking "I am the coolest," for finding them a celebrity. Then I see how a really cool guy performs. He was looking so good with the muscles and the Hollywood haircut and perfect shades I just assumed he would break their hearts. Nope.
Beyond all my expectations, he walked back to our car, having noticed the girls’ excitement. He chatted up the girls a little and let them take pictures with him like he had nothing else to do. Then he blew them all a kiss and glided away so coolly into his Hummer that I started to think we were in a dream sequence. The girls must have thought the same because we all sat there, frozen, eyes wide open.
I give good cab.
SEX IN THE BACK SEAT
People often ask me if I've ever seen someone "doing it" in my cab. Some might want to and I am a romantic but I discourage it, mostly because my rides only last an average of ten minutes or less. I learned this the hard way.
One night, two guys and a gal got into my car after an amorous spell in front of the hotel while they waited for a cab. I found it odd that she was kissing and pawing each guy, like she couldn't decide which one to choose. They entered the car, named a destination hotel and asked me to turn my mirror sideways.
“No. It is a safety hazard and we will be there in less than ten minutes.” One of the guys offered me $20 to use the side mirrors for the remaining 2 miles, so we worked it out. I assumed he heard me about the short distance.
I checked the two outside mirrors and they were correctly positioned for a short drive. Then I saw her feet. I thought what are her feet doing out that window and then I saw her hair blowing out the other window.
I remembered how extra tall she was standing next to these guys, but nothing about her suggested she was a circus performer or any kind of pro but they were all a little drunk and now she was lying across the two guys who were making noises. Humming and munching noises.
Seemed like a poor time for guys to compete but evidently, neither wanted to lose out so close to their goal and so they were working on opposite ends, simultaneously.
Well, to each their own but, damn, I was glad to see their hotel approaching. I told them, twice, "We are almost there."
I confirmed she was just an amorous amateur when we pulled up to their hotel lobby and the whole cab line of people swooshed their heads with their mouths open as we went by and came to a stop.
One of the guys said, "Oh, oh!" she said, "What?"
"We're here," they said. “Hurry, put my clothes back on, hurry," said she.
They worked for a very long minute at this, with the open mouthed people staring at the cab which was as interesting as delays ever get in my business. I bit both cheeks until they paid me.
Thinking back I remembered the doorman blushed and you cannot get a Vegas doorman to blush, since they've seen almost everything..
The next people to get up to my cab studied the passenger area thoroughly before getting in which, of course, I understood. They said, "This seat is still hot. Do you get this kind of thing often?"
"Nope,” I said. “And aren’t we all glad?”
“What do you say we open the windows for a little air?"
HOW SCREWED AM I?
Colorful language is not foreign to me. I was in the army. And I drove a lot of drunks when I started my cab career. Since new cabbies often started on the 3 a.m. shifts, on those nights it was nice to get sleepy riders just for the break from the language. Even the females would sometimes try to compete with trailer trash talk; just for fun. My ears paid the price. And I had to listen to it in case of impending violence to me, the cab, or both.
After a while I was very glad my seniority allowed me to work day shift when the drunks were sleeping. Gone with the drunks were the arguing, cursing, sickly customers and bad smells. And I grew attached to the peace and quiet of normal language. Most trips were now to the airport, buffets and shopping, never a need for cursing. I was now quite comfortable with civil talk.
Until one day, a guy started his conversation the moment he got in my cab with,
“How screwed am I?” Only he used the F- bomb.
“What does that mean?" I asked. He answered,
“I am Arab-American. I am going to the airport to catch a flight and I don't have any identification."
I F- bombed him right back. "You are screwed."
This was New Year's Day only three months after 9/11.
"So, how did you get to Las Vegas without an I.D.?”
He barked, "I had an I.D. when I got here."
“Okay,” I said more calmly," so where is it?"
“I was pick-pocketed."
"Didn't your friends tell you to put your wallet in the front pocket? It's a sure fire protection."
They had told him and he had done it.
"I put the wallet in my front pocket."
“What? How does a guy not notice someone reach into his front pocket?”
I wasn't prepared for the answer.
"Last night was New Year's Eve in Las Vegas." Okay, there were 300,000 people in the street, crammed like sardines. I've had heard that in some places they are squished so tight you get intimate with strangers and you've got no choice. Evidently, this was one of those scenarios.
A girl he didn't know put her hand down his pants and grabbed him "by my Johnson." He was so shocked that he eventually thought,"Boy I am glad my wallet is in my front pock...hey, wait a minute."
Then she was gone and so was the wallet. How did she escape in this crush? "I looked and looked for her but she had disappeared." Practice, he guessed.
Now he had to face the brand new airport security without any identification. Boy, you're screwed, I thought. Silence covered the car the rest of the way to the airport.
As I dropped him off, I gave him my only idea, which was admittedly thin because I had nothing.
"The only suggestion I have for you is to walk up and immediately ask for a cavity search, you know, just to show your earnestness."
H
e just stared at me. “Well...what have you got?" I asked him.
THIS IS SO EMBARASSING
I picked up this nice looking, well-dressed older man one Sunday morning. Little did I know that this single ride would alter my standard expectations, forever.
"Take me to the Bellagio" he moaned, unhappily.
I told him we didn't have to go there if it made him unhappy.
