The Psycho Limousine Driver

On this electric evening, like all nights in the 80s it started out with a desired destination, pulsating to the tunes in the limousine, drinking and toasting to being alive, and of course, a mini celebration after picking up a childhood friend from the airport. I always felt like an heiress-tycoon when I mapped out the entire itinerary for the evening cruise. Champagne on ice, my shiny Halliburton … a holding case so organized and done with such a fetish like an organizational ritual on my part; with things inside… that I kind of want to keep to myself at this time. Three women, my favorite number when socializing and hanging out with loved ones. Perfumes always blended well in a stretch, adding to the olfactory, sexually aroused feeling that somehow I just naturally developed overtime in the backseat of a limo. After finishing our first bottle of champagne and now making our way in to town for dinner and later moon gazing on the beach, I politely asked my driver to take the freeway so that we could get into the city faster, remembering that “Time is money when you’re in a limo”, also knowing that on the freeway it would be a great opportunity to light up and enjoy the green green grass of love, compliments of my good friend Angel. It would be like a cute little inhaled appetizer. This is the time that you let go, the music resonates in your soul, and a little less conversation. The glow of the city lights illuminating the interior looking like Hollywood. You just feel real good. Until the chauffeur abruptly puts the privacy partition down and yelled at the top of his lungs like a crazy maniac. Oh my God! I said to my self, as my other two girlfriends I could see were frightened and in shock. He then accelerated the speed of the limousine, which is not done…unless in a movie. So we all screamed together holding on to our bodies in motion, swearing in unison. He pulled swiftly to the side of the freeway under an overpass to a sudden stop. Meanwhile cars are blazing by at speeds of 65 to 70 plus miles per hour. In his front seat with his big, pudgy, ugly body, and his faded tuxedo, no longer black, more of a green swampy color, and worn by the shoulder blade which I could see and have a permanent memory of. His receded and balding shiny sweaty head. He yelled with his tomato red face “I do not permit smoking of any illegal substances in my Limo! I will call the cops on you! Have you all arrested! I will leave all of you right now on the side of the freeway and you can figure out how the hell to get home… how do you like that! Which is it? take your pick?” Of course I was feeling very worried for my two girlfriends and responsible for there welfare. I could see how nervous they were. I had a sophisticated anger in me that actually worked as if though God giveth to me how to reply to this lunatic dangling on a hopeless fringe so that it would just close his distorted mouth, and forever change his world. Calmly I said to him, ‘Im very sorry for the misunderstanding sir, If you would like I can call the police myself with my mobile, I would be happy to talk to him as well, also this evening I planned on paying you cash instead of a credit card, and I need to get to an ATM machine.” He turned white and all of sudden regretfully panicked. He then replied, “Where is your next stop?” I said sternly… trying to hold back profanity and my temper, “Drop us off at the restaurant, indicated in the manifesto I gave you earlier in the evening.” While in route to our final destination I had made arrangements with another Limousine company. When we arrived I had absolutely no intentions of paying this driver… nor ever patronizing and or referring clients. The gravy train for this limousine company was over. Before hand, my usage of this limousine company was reliable booking, 4 times a week. Most limousine companies make contracts with large hotel bulk movements to have that kind of consistency. As I stepped out of the car with my girlfriends, he looked at me and said, “I’m sorry.” I turned away and didn’t pay. I looked to my two friends and said … “Now that is what I call a psycho limousine driver”

To be continued… A View from the Backseat

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