This story first appeared in the September 18, 2004 issue of "Fast Lane Magazine" an entertainment guide distributed in local bars throughout the Metro Phoenix, Arizona area. It was one of a series in a column wrote for "Fast Lane", called "Road Rage: Tales from the Taxi." At that time I was writing as "Matt 'The Cab Guy' Kelly". I leave it up to the reader to decide if Bubba is a real person, 'cause I'm not telling.
The reference to gas prices was relevant at the time, because the gasoline pipeline that serviced the Phoenix Metro area was broken for several weeks. During this time all the gas for about 3.5 million people had to be brought in by tanker truck from Tucson, causing a huge surge in gas prices. After the pipeline was repaired, prices started to fall back to normal, what ever that is, but then started on their way up again because of the unpleasantness that had just erupted in Iraq.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story, but since I'm such a narcissitic son-of-a-bitch, I really don't care. For every one who likes the story, I can look in a mirror and gaze upon the face of a great writer. For everyone who hates it, I can look in a mirror and gaze upon the face of a great writer who is simply misunderstood by the great unwashed masses. I'm a winner either way.
And now, on with the story of...
Bubba, A Real Ladies Man
By
Matt “The Cab Guy” Kelly
Hello my friends, it’s certainly good to see you again. Since we last conversed, the weather has moderated quite a bit, and so have the gas prices. It’s certainly nice to see that some semblance of sanity has returned to the collective unconscious of the drivers of our fair city. Of course, the conspiracy nuts are still hard at it, trying to prove that oil companies manipulate market conditions, and are therefore able to manipulate the price of gasoline for their benefit. Why anyone would want to waste their time to prove this sort of collusion is beyond me. It should be obvious to all and sundry that this sort of chicanery has been happening for years.
But there is a solution to the high price of gasoline. Don’t buy as much! That’s right, start cutting down on your own personal consumption of gasoline, and the pain in your wallet will start to fade! Stop hopping in your car and running down to the nearest convenience store every time you have a hankering for some beef jerky and a Coke. Start planning your trips, combining many little trips into fewer, bigger ones. Start carpooling.
This, may I add, has several long term benefits, including less wear and tear on your own vehicle, company on the way to and from work, and reduced insurance costs, among others. As a matter of fact, if enough people would start carpooling, the overall demand for gas would go down, and I guarantee the price would follow suit!
So get with it people! Stop being a slave to Chevron, ARCO, Exxon, and all the rest. Find a gas company executive, and give him a personal demonstration of your own demand reduction plan: pull the nozzle out of your tank, and shove it up his ass! ‘Nough said on that subject.
Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. You might find my story this week to be humorous. You might find it to be banal. In fact, you might be utterly and completely offended by it. Frankly, I don’t care which it is, although I must say I’ll laugh with those who are amused, and laugh at those who are offended. Now, strictly speaking, this is not a story that could be, at first blush, described as a “Tale From The Taxi”, because it didn’t happen in a cab, nor was it told to me there. But what the hell, the hero of this little morality play was once actually a passenger in my cab, so on that basis I’d say it qualifies. Barely. Anyway, allow me to introduce to you:
Bubba, A Real Ladies Man!
Friends, I’ve known Bubba for quite a few years, but it has only been recently that we’ve become well enough acquainted with each other to tell each other stories about our personal lives. I must say that what I have learned about Bubba is simply fascinating. He’s middle aged, and he’s quite an unforgettable character. Some people have even gone so far as to describe Bubba as, “a little off.” That may be true. I’ll leave that up to you to decide. The other day, Bubba told me this little story. (He specifically said to me, “You can put this in your column.” I hope that means there will be no lawsuit.)
“About twenty years ago,”
says Bubba,
“I used to live on the Jersey Shore. I had a job in a restaurant as a cook, which was within walking distance of my apartment, which also just happened to be within walking distance of all my favorite bars. At the time, as now, I tried to get just about every woman I met into bed. For me, there were never any bad women, although there were bad situations.
Anyway, I remember this one time I got a girl to come home with me by promising to buy her breakfast in the morning. She came up to my place, and we went at it all night long. In the morning, I was able to get her to go one more time. When we were done, as we were getting dressed, she reminded me that I promised to buy her breakfast.
Now, I hadn’t forgotten that promise, but as I had no money, I would be unable to fulfill the promise. I got to tell you, I knew that when I told her that I would take her to breakfast in the morning, I was lying. I had no money to buy her breakfast, as I had spent it all buying her drinks during the night. But it seemed to be the thing that she needed to hear in order to loosen up enough to come over to my place, so I went ahead and said it. I figured that I’d think of some way out of it in the morning. I did feel bad about it at the time, but what the hell, I wanted to get laid. You probably would have done the same thing."
(Cab Guy here: I must disagree with Bubba on this point: I would not have done the same thing. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t lie to a woman, and promise to take her to breakfast, knowing I didn’t have the money to do so, if that’s what it took to get her into bed. I’m just saying that prior to hearing this story, I wouldn’t have had the presence of mind to say such a thing, and so the opportunity would have slipped away from me. Believe me when I say that from now on into the future, I will certainly consider this tactic. But only if absolutely necessary! Anyway, back to Bubba’s story.)
"I had to find a way to get out of taking her to breakfast. So I said to her,
‘Sure, I haven’t forgotten, but before we go, can I have some of that medicine you were telling me about? Last night you said you were going to let me have some.’
Well, there really wasn’t any medicine, so she asks me,
‘What medicine?’
So I said to her, ‘You know, that medicine that you use. I need some of it, because I have the same problem.’
Naturally, since she doesn’t have a clue as to what I’m taking about, she just gives me this blank look, and asks again,
‘What medicine?’
‘That medicine that you use for herpes,’ I said.
‘Remember, we were talking about that last night, and I told you that I also had herpes, and you said that you would let me use some of your medicine.’
She just looked at me for a few seconds, then it dawned on her that I was, in essence, telling her that I had herpes, and that I thought that she had herpes, too. Well, I didn’t really have herpes, but now she thinks that I gave it to her. She didn’t like this turn of events at all, and all she can think about is,
‘The hell with breakfast, I’m out of here!’
So she just ran around my apartment, getting her clothes, and then she stormed out the door without a word. Like I said earlier, I felt bad about what I had done, but I really wanted to get laid, and like I said, I didn’t have the money to take her out for breakfast. But I did buy her drinks all night, so all’s well that ends well.”
Well, folks that’s Bubba for you. If you think it was far-fetched, just try this next one on for size!
“I remember one time that I was down in Florida for a vacation. It was winter at the time, and although you wouldn’t think so, it could get mighty cold down there during that time of year. So cold that there could actually be ice on the streets. Anyway, I was down there during one of those cold spells, staying in a little hotel.
One night, when it was particularly frosty outside, the heating system in my room broke. This made it very difficult to sleep, so I went down to a little bar near the hotel, hoping to get warm, have a few drinks, and maybe meet a lady who would take me home to her place, where I could have a little fun, and spend a nice warm night, cozy in a new friend’s bed.
After spending a little time in the bar, I began talking to this woman who said she lived only a few blocks from the bar, and I was welcome to spend the night, if I so desired. So we finished our drinks, and moseyed on over to her place. When we got to her place, it turned out that her power was off, but she had gas heat.
Also, I forgot to mention, she was a huge woman, so her body mass alone was likely to keep me cozy during the night. At the time it didn’t seem important that she had no lights, so we just went to bed in the dark. We went at it for a while, and the fell off to sleep.
Some time during the night, I woke up to the sound of someone outside her place, yelling to be let in. It turned out to be her ex-boyfriend, who, as fate would have it, was even bigger that she was. And he was drunk. And he was angry. Very, very angry. Somehow or another, he got inside the place. Because it was dark, he couldn’t see me. Because of the bulk of the woman, who had to have weighed several hundred pounds, he probably looked at the lump I made in the bed, and thought it was just some more of her.
Anyway, they start arguing, and I’m kind of moving around in the dark, looking for my clothes, hoping to get dressed and out of there, before he discovers me there, and maybe hurts me. I found everything but my socks and one shoe when he realized I wasn’t just another lump of he flesh, I was a stranger in the house. At this point I figured I had to get out of there, and quick, before he decides to end my life. So I jump up, look right at him and tell him that I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, and I certainly didn’t want to precipitate any discord in the relationship, so I would just leave.
I still hadn’t found my socks or other shoe, so I just left, knowing I’d have to walk several blocks in the cold. When I got back to my hotel, my un-shod foot was bleeding because it had gotten stuck, and subsequently pulled loose from the icy road so may times during the trip. But it didn’t matter all that much, because for a few hours at least, I was warm, and had a woman!”
There you have it folks, my friend Bubba, a simple man of simple pleasures! I don’t know about you, but it sure does my heart good to know there are people out there in this world of ours who know what they want, know how to get it, and really don’t care what other people think about them. Sometime it just doesn’t get any better than that! Until we meet again…
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