Tag Archives: music

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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Sex with the Moonroof Open

The Driver pulled up on the hill,  in front of my house always arriving 15 to 30 minutes early. In the limousine industry, there are some drivers that aim to please and keep the client happy so that the satisfied  customer will request the same driver for another day. On this chartered affair of mine, it started out with tunes, alcohol, change of clothes, and lots of green baby backs… cold, hard cash, as it always did.  However most important for the journey is a full charge on the mobile device and the little black book , in this case , my book was red for the 80s. Feeling like a pimp, player, and a major dealer rolled in one, I kind of had a strong testosterone and estrogen level competing to cause in the mind and body at the same time, a sort of Disney like euphoric theme park ride happening in the anatomy within.  Pretty much like on top of the world. Like my own little movie world. Stopping at the liquor store to purchase champagne was the first stop; other unmentionables…  pick ups and orchestrations for all things illegal was done a day before the stretch came. Time is money in the white elephant, as I like to call it, known to others as a white limousine. Soon this would become a code word throughout the years to come. Calling my friends and picking them up at the door step gave me such an incredible high. The comfort and joy in their eyes once in the car all knowing that they could drink and party, and that I would return them back at their door step safely. This ritual, would soon become what I was known for, and what all my friends and acquaintances would come to expect. On this particular evening, the moon was full, the wind was a not a gust but more swirly, kind of a sexy wind. Not the kind of wind that just blows. I was feeling a bit like a guy in heat. I’m a woman… but there are times when the body just wants to go. I picked up my two friends, such a respected, adorable couple. Close friends, loyal people. The kind of friends that you barbecue  with, play volleyball,  go to the beach,  just real good courteous type. When the moon is full it is a big distraction for me. Brings out the inner animal, all things primitive and sexual, especially when the stretch is cliff side , music on,  moon roof open, flute in hand, sipping on champagne. Earlier in the evening of course , me being the master now at planning and timing limousine charters. I have to be on top of my game. Every minute in a limousine is totaled at the end of the night on top of a gratuity. I asked the driver  before we hit the coastline with the gorgeous cliffs and panoramic ocean view, to not stop the vehicle at any time, do not put the partition down at anytime, and that when you arrive at the secluded beach I instructed as our destination of the evening, to please keep the engine running and I will know we have arrived and I will call you from the car phone to let us out onto the beach. Its amazing how wonderful and so non complex it was for me on this evening to begin the seduction in the backseat with two people I love and adore , and I knew , they also loved and adored me as well. Scooting in was done on my part so sexy and in perfect rhythm to the music being played. Music from the 80s just always had a groove that made you feel like your hips belonged in someone else’s direction with a lovely grind to it.  I was so damned good at moving in a moving limousine. Naturally I kissed the girl and she liked it. Next the hand of her boyfriend caressed my breast, deep warm breathing , then the moaning, pressing in and feeling the heat of each others bodies bumping and grinding, the thrill and erotic stimulation of being so turned on and moist while in a limousine with the glow of the full moon illuminating the long leather seat. The ocean at a distance was exhilarating while the smell of night came through the open moonroof. Three people in heat, in the backseat of a limousine is and was an experience that can only , and honestly my friends happen once.

To be continued …  A View From the Backseat

The Drinking Generation

Eighteen with a screwdriver, right out of the liquor store, mixed, all stirred up and ready to drink. Wow! Along with many other blends and varieties to choose from. The fact that eighteen was the legal drinking age growing up it prepared me to understand very quickly at a young age …limits, consequences, and location, location. Meeting at the park late at night, deep in the forrest, high up on a mountain top passing the Jack and coke with a view to die for, feeling very primitive and all bonded and in love with your friends. Watching the sun set, waiting for the last family to leave on the beach, then exposing the mini bar in the cooler and letting it all hang out. Carefully planning a convergence on the estate when the entire family had a wedding to go to, and its party time. This one worked for awhile because it felt like rock and roll and why not I’m a female lead vocalist in a rock and roll band. Use the rehearsal studio when the band is not rehearsing, because I can, and I have the keys. Party like a rock star! Then it gets old. not the animal in you… but the manner and style of house parties and the setting , not to mention the dreaded “Can you drive?” question to your significant other at the end of the night. Lord have mercy.
This is the part where I wish I could press a button, kind of like that … you know… thumbs up button on your computer on your scrolling moments, that takes so much of your precious time away from you. Ok. I’ll stop, sorry thats another subject.
Imagine with me, if you can, picking the phone up, ordering for a limousine with my very own driver, requesting where I want to be picked up, for how many hours I will be using the stretch. No questions asked, except how will I be paying for this at the end of the night.
Do you know how addictions become fueled? Do you know that in life there are many addictions that occur in the human mindset, and it’s not always what you have been told, seen and or read about in magazines, documentaries, and in news letter pamphlets handed out to you, nor circle human meetings in buildings.

To be continued … A View from the Backseat

The Price of Independence

There’s an old saying… money can’t buy you happiness. Alright, yes, I think we all know this particular saying, and got that by the time we were in high school. Being passionate and loving, connecting to nature, our brothers and sisters, our inner sanctum, and core soul, as well as embodied in spirit cannot be purchased outright. Not at all. However, there’s this thing called life. Life as we live it, experience it, interacting with people, places and things. Our feelings, nothing more than what we give, receive, play, eat, make love to, speak to, and listen to. Quite amazing I must say. When you are young you have a picture imagination in full detail of how a love story should feel like when you grow up, but then, you grow up, you have cute little puppy love, going steady, square dancing moments, big green fields with laughter, joy, and pure innocence. Nothing hurts, nothing cuts like a knife. So magical. Like flying a kite over and over again, and that wonderful deep butterfly drop in your stomach, and exhilarating sensation you feel when the wind beneath the diamond sail in the air takes your kite, as you hold onto the handles with your cute little hands, to the next level in the sky and you hold on tight as if though you are in flight up there in the air so free and a steady control which feels so wonderful. What happened? What happened to that innocent feeling of freedom, being in love, yet in control, with certain magical lift that should happen like mother nature taking its course. You see, we are all different in our looks and what we like. Therefore, our receptors that receive and interpret words and or actions from others are different as well.
I guess what happens sometimes in relationships, if there is a misunderstanding or argument, certain individuals tend to throw things in your face, instead of talking about the actual incident, or what occurred to cause a bit of friction for the time being. At this young and very delicate time in my life, the decadent, chubby, all glorious and big 80s, this on and off again type of verbal abuse caused collateral damage in my heart and soul. Do you ever wonder why most individuals fight like that?
I found myself, so many times, for so many years in the passenger seat, while being driven home, being told of all the things wrong with me, and in the same verbal assault, all the things done for me, and I always had fear, anxiety, and of course tears that I swallowed. God, by the time I was dropped off, the incredible sadness that just cuts deep into the soul and spirit was within me. I asked myself time and time again, “Why do people say the things they do, what makes them feel that certain way, if only you could turn and walk away, damnation would be left for those who stayed.”” DON’T CRY.”
Here my friends, is where I started to have a two moon conjunction, that thing about “money can’t buy you happiness”… For me when money was spent, when I gave it, shared it, spread it around, put it where the mouth is to silence weapon like words, to see the joy on the face of others, I figured it out. Paying for a limousine not only buys you your very own mobile apartment with all amenities, including ice. This concept, this rental agreement contract also includes a gentleman who happens to be your very own chauffeur, that opens and closes your door, says “please, may I , and thank you.”Takes you anywhere you want, for as long as you want. The best part no verbal abuse, and that only money could buy.
Soon would begin my journey and the price of independence.

to be continued… A View From the Back Seat

The Driver Let Me in Alone

The Hill at night is always a different temperature from the city. I was waiting outside for my boyfriend . My sister’s boyfriend arranged for a Limousine to come and pick everyone up for the evening for a night cruise , pick up friends toast to the  evening , and what may come as we had absolutely no plans but to ride together and take on the night. Waiting outside enjoying of course the smell of night, as I always do. My boyfriend, to arrive soon , park car, join us for the cruise. The stretch rolled up slow, nice and long ,  loud hum to the engine , the stretch turned 180 to parallel front of home, for passengers to walk in from sidewalk,  exterior limo lights on side car panel.  For me,  it was slow motion and graceful at the same time. The driver stepped out in his black tuxedo , politely stood by the door of his long white stretch. I then gracefully , as if though I was still in the picture I witnessed coming toward me earlier. I said, “Hi, hows it going?” He replied ” Fine thank you,” I said, ” So you know everyone is still in the house getting ready , my sisters should be out soon. My boyfriend will be coming as well. My sister’s boyfriend is the one who ordered the Limo; he’s not here yet but he should be soon.  I was just wondering if it would be possible for me to peek inside and look inside the car just to see what this car looks like? I know that it’s rude to ask but I would make sure to get out before the person who paid, and everyone coming tonight.” See I thought he would just say here I will open the door to let you look in. However he did not. He opened the door and said , “Why don’t you go and sit down and make yourself comfortable, and I will keep watch for you and let you know when they come out.” I thought to myself , wow , I like that idea.. I went with that drivers idea. The door closed . . AC on. Little television off, ice in side bin,  mood lights for my fingers to play with. Partition up. Music console looking so fine for me to put tunes on. The moon roof button really got me.  The fact that MOON ROOF was written to define such a button at your control! A phone handset with a button to speak with driver . I don’t know. Something happened to me. Little did I know what it was , but I knew that it was a feeling that would manifest long and deep and reach a hidden pain. Past life or what felt like perhaps a neuron crave and or the embryonic stages of addiction..

To be continued… A View from the Backseat