With literally thousands of entries under my belt, I republish what might be my all time favorite today. There’s very little about escorts here so I suggest that all soulless sex zombies move on. This is about the human condition and thus, paramount to some…and worthless to others.
Recently while conversing with an old friend, I somehow recalled out loud a piece of my past the significance of which had eluded me for all these years. Allow me to hop into my time machine to tell the story. Continue Reading
It almost seems like I’ve been writing this blog forever. But actually, it’s only been a couple of months short of 8 years. So what did it look like on the first day of its inception? Look to your right. That’s a screenshot from 12/16/08 just 6 weeks into this project. And what did I write the very first day? Here it is, an entry that reads more like a mission statement than anything else. I love the part about “in time, there will probably be ads to generate a few bucks.”
There’s nothing quite the equal of starting a new creative project! It’s almost like being a virgin all over again. Well…it’s a little late for that – or maybe it isn’t? Don’t we all deserve a second chance? Whatever, let me introduce myself. Without getting overly-indulgent, I’ll trim the autobiography to these few words: Via my employment as an adult advertising rep, I am privy to all sorts of insider information about the bodyworkers whose affection many of us seek. Continue Reading
One thing y’all probably don’t know is that soup kitchens don’t like to waste food. If there’s ever any leftovers, the institution tends to pack them up and send them on down the line to the nearest free food location for distribution. As such, I’ve trucked meat loaf, bread, cupcakes and whatever else from the University Soup Kitchen to the Catholic Worker on numerous occasions to keep food in the bellies of the indigent.
Similarly, the Krishna people, who feed the homeless in Tompkins Square Park will on occasion (like twice or three times a week) arrive at the Catholic Worker with leftovers – which is almost always some sort of red hot curry paella with a fair amount of vegetables mixed in. Actually, it’s not bad stuff if your stomach can take the heat. So we dump the huge pot into an almost as huge pan and give it out to the boys (and girls). Continue Reading
No, not the Big Kahuna (as the legend goes). But the Big HYUNA, a K-pop star who as usual, is more smoke, mirrors, makeup and surgery than say…talent. Now, I’m no SETH MACFARLANE. I’m not about to make a video which espouses that Korea sounds like gonorrhea – or that all the big and firm breasts are grown in the USA and not in South Korea. (If you haven’t seen that video, I’ll include it at the end of this entry.)
But I’m less about snapping on Hyuna today than I am about enlightening my readership so we seem hip to the Korean cuties who light up the sidebar of this questionable effort. After all, knowing something about other cultures’ culture always works out for the best.
So anyway…Hyuna is a K-pop star who has apparently been in a few groups…all successful…and is now out on her own. I believe her most recent effort (you can check on this because frankly, I don’t really give a shit if it is or it isn’t) is a tune called ROLL DEEP. I’m not quite sure to what Hyuna refers when she says you can “roll deep” with her but whatever…here’s the video of the aforementioned tune followed by the FAMILY GUY video which so enraged some South Koreans. With these two (or at least the first) under your belt, I’m sure the wheels of progress will be suitably lubricated. Enjoy. Continue Reading
Last year I tried to organize the volunteers at the University Soup Kitchen to go en masse to a minor league ball game in Staten Island. It didn’t happen. So you can imagine that when this year, the Catholic Worker crew asked me if I wanted to go attend a game at the same venue – and that they already had a ticket for me – I was gratified and more than willing to attend. I’d like to tell y’all that I had a great time. But I’d be lying if I did.
The photo you see along with this post is actually one I took several years ago when one day while doing one of my Staten nature tours, I came to discover that it was game day at the park. So I locked my bike to check out the scene and remarkably, was able to stroll in and up to the luxury suites from where I took the accompanying photo all free-of-charge. Continue Reading
I have a longtime friend I’ll call John (because that’s his real name). We met about 25 years ago when the guy who ran the juke box at the original Village Idiot introduced us thusly: “Bill! This is John. He drives a cab, too!” Twenty five years later – and even though John has moved to a tank town in Pennsylvania – we still talk.
I called today to ask how he and his mother are doing – and somehow we got into a discussion during which John waxed nostalgic about his old days in the army…and specifically, the sexual permissiveness that virtually defined Heidelberg when he was stationed there in the early ’70’s. Continue Reading
In the wake of the ongoing BILL COSBY saga, comes yet another tragic tale of a high-profile celebrity drugging women for the purpose of gaining entry to their nether regions. DARREN SHARPER, ex-all pro NFL defender, was just sentenced to 18 years behind bars by a federal district judge for drugging and then raping no fewer than nine women in four different states.
The first question you might ask is “why is Cosby still walking around while Sharper just got 18 years?” And the answer to that is simple: the statute of limitations. All but one of Cosby’s victims didn’t come forward until that statute had expired. So prosecuting Cosby is much more difficult though apparently, over time, he was more prolific than Sharper. Continue Reading
Recently, a girl I know has been making snide-ish remarks about my wallet – if ya get my drift. Somebody told her I have money and in a not-too-subtle manner, she’s been hoping to access it. I had a fair idea from where she got her information and I called my buddy who I’ll call Johnson (why not) to say “dude! Not that I really care but I’m not sure you should be telling anybody about my presumed riches.”
To his credit, Johnson didn’t deny that he was the provider of the info. His response was that he’d told the girl “just ’cause Billy walks around in t-shirts and cut-off shorts and rides a bike, don’t think he’s poor. Billy got jew money!” Despite the prejudicial overtones, I had to laugh. Continue Reading
A few days ago, I ran a repeat titled “The Bartender’s Boyfriend” in which I compared the futility of capturing an escort’s heart to the odds of similarly hypnotizing a Coyote Ugly or Village Idiot bartender. But I left out a funny personal story which should have been part in parcel of that entry. And so…I offer part two of “The Bartender’s Boyfriend.”
Despite the fact that I had nothing going for me to speak of save a job driving a cab, there was an occasional bartender who found me provocative. One of those precious few was a girl named Laurie, a regular drink slinger at the original Village Idiot. Laurie was born and raised on Woodhaven Boulevard in Queens by her mama and stepdaddy. I mention this because one of her teeth was a little cockeyed. I’d always wondered why daddy had never sprung for orthodonture given what a pretty little girl his daughter surely was. When I heard her stepdaddy was a truck driver, I figured it out! A perfect smile simply wasn’t in the family budget – especially when daughter Laurie wasn’t actually stepdaddy’s offspring. Continue Reading
Because I was once for all intents and purposes an advertising agency…and mom was a copywriter by profession…I’ve always been a keen observer of commercial psychology. Whether it’s print, television or the Internet, I like to analyze why some executive thinks an ad will work…and whether I think he or she is spot on or has their head up their ass.
So I was watching some show or other when a new OLD NAVY commercial came on. And it was everything 30 seconds should be. There was hot music…hot bodies…hot fashion…hot dancing…and even a tribute to the old Soul Train line dance. My initial reaction was “now this is a commercial!” But then I realized something. Continue Reading
In my youth, I was a big fan. But now, the olympics are only of passing interest to me. Still, with not a lot else to do, I’ve been watching. And what I want to know is exactly what do fake eyelashes, lipstick, and makeup do to enhance a runner or gymnast’s performance? Now I’m not talking about women in the pool. They go without. But I can’t help but notice that the prevalence of Revlon and Maybelline-aided faces has become the norm! When did that happen?
And there’s something more sinister lurking in the olympic presentation. Those amazing gymnasts are barely pubescent. Why are they being made up to look like grown women when in fact, they’re more childlike than womanly? They’re children for Chrissakes! Whose idea was it to turn them into objects of titillation? Continue Reading
Who among us doesn’t remember the first time he saw a dirty movie? Only those with Alzheimer’s. Our first dirty movie is what I might call a “seminal” event! I don’t remember if I was 13 or 14 or whatever. But it was some time in my early teens that I got my first glimpse of what was then called a dirty movie (and what would now be rated R at best).
As I’ve noted before, the boys I still convene with and I were allowed to travel to the big city once we’d hit the not-so-ripe age of 13. Armed with 40 cents (25 for the bus and 15 for the train), we could travel to Manhattan (or the Bronx or Queens) to do the stuff kids liked to do. Ya know…go to the top of the Empire State building…or to the Statue of Liberty…or to a Knick, Met, Yankee or Ranger game. Continue Reading
Back when I was the neighborhood cab driver, there were just a few places you could find me. I was either driving…sleeping…fishing…hunkered down in a lap dance joint…or hanging out in an East Village bar tryin’ to get laid. And as a regular at Downtown Beirut, The Village Idiot and later…The Coyote Ugly, I was friendly with most of the bartenders, all of whom were pretty hot (that’s why they got hired). We had a lot in common. Like…we were all in the service industry – and all had stories about horrible customers who drove us to distraction. We were colleagues of a sort. Plus, I drove a lot of them home at 5 AM! Continue Reading
The world is full of whores. Of that there can be no doubt. For every person of high moral fiber, there are 100 who’ll commit all manner of ethical indiscretions in the name of greed and avarice. For every Ghandi, there’s a money-grubbing prostitute willing to compromise everything in pursuit of the Golden Idol. We need only look toward Wall Street to see some of the richest and nefarious flatbackers mankind has ever known.
But this is way too grand a scale for me to ponder given my station in life. I leave the real whores for somebody else to consider. I’ll stick with escorts for the moment. The fact that I see them as more upfront and less whorish than the majority is of no consequence for I am nothing in the great stream of things. Continue Reading
You might remember a few weeks ago my recounting an episode during which I was watching one of my favorite tv shows when I had a sneaking suspicion that its writer was a reader of this blog only to have that suspicion confirmed when one of the actors who appears on the series contacted me. I remind y’all of this because yesterday, I got that same feeling once again.
I think I’ve mentioned (I know I have) that BILL BRYSON is my favorite author/writer. His style is just like mine (or mine like his)…only he’s much better, funnier, and more successful. Otherwise, we’re like twins.
So anyway…I just finished reading another one of his books, one in which he describes the experience of moving back to his home land, namely the United States…and settling down in the quaint college town of Hanover, New Hampshire, population 11,260. Not a very big place I’m sure we can all agree. Continue Reading
Today’s modern Smartphone is clearly one of the most significant inventions of the past 20 years. You can call almost anybody from anywhere and perform a multitude of tasks which make life easier, more convenient and safer as well. Quite a deal considering they can be had for what amounts to a nominal fee. But of course, the very existence of the Smartphone has its downside.
For one, your location (or your phone’s) can be tracked to within a few feet. And your contraption’s camera or microphone can be enabled as well. Thanks to your Smartphone, you now have absolutely no privacy in this world. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about today. Continue Reading
Yesterday, a reader suggested that I post some old photos from when I used to take pictures at the Korean places, suggesting that while mine were far less professional than the current generation’s, they have a cache all their own. Well…I don’t know about all that…but I did dig up a few from yesteryear and found that the ones not meant for advertisements were my favorites. They provide such a revealing window into the culture.
Here’s what I’ve chosen to publish today.
This is an unposed shot of two girls streaming tv shows from home (why you can’t see the screens eludes me) in between customers. I saw the scene…had my camera…and took the shot before anybody knew what was going on. Once they realized there were no faces, there wasn’t a problem. This picture was taken almost 10 years ago at ASIAN VACATION.
The breakfast table at SPICY ASIAN 7 years ago. Blccch!
An Asian outcall guy from Flushing took me out to dinner one night. This isn’t 32nd Street for Americans. This is Northern Boulevard and 160th St. – strictly for Koreans.
Jisu’s slippers. Seeing the girls chirp away with each other while wearing robes and slippers like these is a lot different from going to their sites and viewing the photoshopped glamor shots. Still, a lot of the K-girls look irresistibly cute and innocent when they’re not vamping for us hound dogs.
I’ve heard some laughable names for an escort. But BIG NOSE KATE has to take the cake!
So I just finished reading a book debunking all the legends of the Wild West. Back in the late 19th century, people couldn’t buy enough of dime novels and newspapers – as print was the only medium in those days. And exaggerating the exploits of people like Wild Bill Hickock, Buffalo Bill Cody, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and Kit Carson sold units! You know how that goes. Thus, there was a lot of hyperbole used in describing these guys’ exploits…so much so that the aforementioned book was written to dispel all that mythology and reveal the real people behind the legends. Continue Reading
Generally, when single guys think about how to score some sex, there are two options: First is to charm your way to the promised land. And second is to simply pay for it. But Scott Silverthorne, mayor of Fairfax, Virginia, had another way. He (allegedly) swapped methamphetamine for sexual favors. Or at least he tried!
Small problem, though. The object of his lust was an undercover police officer. And when he showed up at a hotel room with the drugs, he was met with handcuffs…and not the fur-lined kind!
The cops declined to reveal on which site or app Silverthorne found this girl. But I think we can all assume that the term “casual encounters,” which the report included, would indicate the likelihood that the casual encounters section of Craigslist was where he did his hunting. Continue Reading
What with being as old as I am…and being single for all that time…and the people I deal with to make my living…you’d figure I know a lot about what makes a women tick both emotionally and physically. By now, I should have the keys to all the locks. But I’ve discovered something new about girls in the past month or so.
Savvy guy that I am, I’m aware that women take longer to reach orgasm than men…and it generally takes much more foreplay and loving care for a guy to satisfy a woman than it does for a woman to satisfy a man. Yeah, it’s a rip off on girls but hey…it wasn’t my decision. Go pray to your favorite deity for the answer. Continue Reading
For many readers of this blog it’s one or more of New York’s many incalls…and for hipsters, it’s any number of bars or clubs in the big city. But for me, my playground of choice is the outer jogging and bikeways that almost completely border Manhattan. Granted, biking the periphery is nowhere near the thrill of a steep hiking path to a mountaintop. But it is just a few minutes away and thus, most sunny days (and some not-so-sunny ones as well), you’ll find me in the East River Park or rolling down the Hudson River Conservancy.
And I’m always amazed and I daresay confounded…by that eternal optimist, the East River fisherman. On several occasions, I’ve thought to stop and engage the person in conversation with a question along the lines of “do you ever fucking catch anything?” And moreover, “are you crazy enough to eat the mother fucker if you do?” I kind of know the answer to both questions…having seen enough fishermen on the river over a period of time…and noting their national origins. Continue Reading
It’s just about closing time at the Catholic Worker this past Monday when a non-threatening 50-something looking homeless guy spies a box of Captain Crunch breakfast cereal on the shelf next to all the metal soup bowls and what seems like 101 plates 102 of which are from an unmatching set. “Hey! Can I get a bowl of Captain Crunch?” he asks me innocently.
There is no official breakfast at the shelter (or at least one which needs volunteers) and not knowing how to answer, I defer to Bud (aka Budzilla), whose rank would determine whether I should oblige the man’s wishes or not.
Bud tells him “if I do it for you, I have to do it for everybody.” I’m not sure I believe him. We’ll do pretty much whatever a guest wants within reason regardless of how rude they can be (and they can be rude). More than likely, it’s because we’re moments away from cleanup – and this guy will slow us down – that Bud rejects the man. Maybe 15 seconds later and apparently with a change of heart, Bud whispers in my ear “give the guy a bowl of cereal.” Continue Reading
Believe it or not, MALIA OBAMA is now 18 years old. And after taking a year off, she will be on her way to Harvard University just like her parents. But that doesn’t mean she’s a nerdy goody two shoes. First Malia dragged the old man to see HAMILTON, the all-the-rage hip hop Broadway mega hit. Then she decided to punt the Democratic National Convention in favor of attending Lollapalooza, a music festival in Chicago. While stage right with some friends, Malia busted some dance moves and then lifted her skirt to twerk the crowd. OMG! What is the world coming to? Continue Reading
So many things to write about and so little time! Yet, I have my days when I sit for minutes with no clue as to what the fuck I’m going to pound out on the keyboard. Anyway…for some reason I can’t recall, I thought back to my first road gig as a musician last night. So that’s what you’ll read about today. And actually, it’s kind of an entertaining story.
Once I’d left the paid-for graduate school program somebody thought I was suited for, it was onward and upward with music. But I was not that enlightened garage band/Steely Dan kind of guy who wrote songs and recorded them. I was just a schmuck who wanted to hit the road…play in a band…eke out enough money to eat…and of course, have sex with girls. I was not a complicated guy. Continue Reading
Heatwave in the past notwithstanding, yesterday at the University Soup Kitchen was really hot! When you see dainty girls sweating through their t-shirts, you know it’s hot. And that’s the first time I’ve ever seen that on Saturday.
Anyway…there was a group of black girls from some organization or other who were volunteering. Generally, when these groups come, they’re easily identifiable as they all wear the same emblemed t-shirt and thus, I knew that the lunch table where I sat a group of girls who came as a unit. One of the members was very quiet and somewhat younger than the rest. Sensing that she was an introvert, I successfully drew her out of her shell and found that in fact, the girl could not only be friendly…but turned out to be the best worker of the bunch. Anytime I needed a busser, none of the girls were present. But when I needed a waiter? There she was to get the job done. Continue Reading
Light a candle and say a prayer. The era of the guitar-strumming, folk-singing, flower in her hair-wearing girl is gone. This isn’t the first time I’ve noted this passage. I mention it today because once again, I’ve discovered yet another female freak of nature on guitar. Granted, she rushes the beat in the first verse leaving rock-steady rhythm players uncomfortable no doubt. But still, her speed and agility are undeniable. And at the end of live performances, she tells the audience “merci beaucoup”…mostly because she’s French.
Realizing that half the gifted guitar world has lifted his song and style, BRAD PAISLEY, the originator of this musical juggernaut, has since stepped up the beats per minute in his live-performance to establish that regardless of gender, he is the preeminent freak of nature on his chosen instrument. For proof, check out these next two self-explanatory videos. Both are extraordinary in their own rite. Continue Reading
How many times did your parents tell you to eat everything on your plate because somebody in the world is starving and would kill for what you were about to discard? I know…too many times. Well if I haven’t discovered anything else via volunteering, I am now well aware that nobody starves in New York unless they want to.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned this on the blog…but I have a new volunteering oasis where I help feed the homeless 4 to 5 days a week. It’s called “The Catholic Worker”…and , conveniently it’s only a half mile away from my apartment (which is why it’s my new oasis). Yesterday, one of the lieutenants dispatched me to the cooler (a big walk-in refrigerator in the basement) to fetch a crate of green beans for the dinner menu. Continue Reading
…HARBOR THAT IS!
Enter WWII in HD, one of my favorite AH2 shows. The format is simple: endless footage shot in color with narrators reciting the contents of letters sent home by the combatants – or correspondents who were there describing the action. The series is hours and hours long with each minute more gruesome than the next. I don’t know which is more horrible: the footage of dead and mangled bodies from the beaches and battlefields – or the piles of emaciated corpses the allies found when they liberated a Nazi death camp.
So right in the middle of the brutal spectacle, the presentation switches gears for an hour and examines the “oases” of Pearl Harbor, complete with two vice cops…one now 101 years old…telling the story. And quite a story it is! Continue Reading
Predictably, the summer doldrums have hit the escort business hard. Everybody is telling me how slow it is! This is what I tell them: “Try running a Backpage ad in the Long Island section and list your location as ‘The Hamptons.’ If your phone rings 100 times, you’ll know exactly where all your business went…and where to go if you want to recoup it.”
“You smart,” said one Korean girl when I made this suggestion. “I have to be. I’m not that good-looking,” was my response.
From there, the girl next to her appraised me unabashedly: “You tall. Long legs. Face not bad. But your hair. All gone!” As quick, mostly accurate, and brutally succint opinion as hers wasn’t really what I was after. But still, I answered without missing a beat. “Wow! I feel like I just got a TER review!” The girls all laughed and then one teased “you do GFE?” “Only for some girls. Not all!”
Wanna get your very own review? Maybe you can hit the jackpot while I didn’t! Intelligent readers will understand the obscure reference. Continue Reading
Yeah, all of us guys know about chick flicks – and even the Chick Channel (WE Network). But there’s another female-oriented medium you might not have considered. And that’s chick books! In my unending quest to understand women (yeah, right) and fill my day with something to do, I’ve taken to reading chick books. So what’s a chick book? Answer: It’s a book written by a chick…about the trials and tribulations of being a chick. Talk about fascinatin’!
Last week, I read a too-long-for-me (considering the subject) study about chicks anchoring the news titled “The News Sorority.” Basically, it traced the biographies and career paths of three chicks…Katie Couric, Diane Sawyer and Christiane Amanpour.
A quick review of the three protagonists: Continue Reading
Consider the old joke about there being only two kinds of sex workers. One admits to childhood sexual abuse and the other doesn’t…the implication being that all sex workers were sexually abused during their formative years. Not everybody subscribes to this theory. But one person who does is an old time client of mine who was quoted in a recently-published book thusly: “When we have sex with a client, we get to take the power back” (or something like that).
This is something I always thought played into a sex worker’s psyche. But I never heard it articulated by a practitioner until I read the passage. And I sort of wanted to stand up and cheer. Finally, one of the girls “got” her MO! Continue Reading
Having just finished “ST. MARKS IS DEAD,” a new book glorifying the iconic East Village strip, I feel compelled to tell my very own story on a related subject, the first night at CBGB, an event you could probably guess I actually attended. But here’s the rub: As you might additionally surmise, I was not a downtown hipster on the cutting edge by any means. So how did I end up in the legendary spot to bear witness for posterity? Continue Reading
The other day I visited one of my favorite playmates. As per usual, we followed a familiar routine. Ya know…a little catching up on gossip…a little physical foreplay…a little of this…and a little of that. And then it was time for the main event.
I whipped out the rubber…opened the wrapper…and checked to see in which direction to unravel the sheath. From there, my fiance took over. With fingers from both hands, she unrolled the bad boy a couple of inches…stretched out the condom…and then slapped it audibly over the head. From there she unfurled the raincoat down to the base and beckoned me forth. The entire activity took maybe 10 seconds from start to readiness. We (and she) got it down! Continue Reading
Once upon a time the acronym GOP referred to the Grand Old Party, the republicans who are currently convening in Cleveland to officially nominate DONALD TRUMP as their candidate for this November’s coming presidential election. But not so anymore if an article in our New York Post has any credibility. According to the not-always-to-be-trusted tabloid, male escorts are doing a landmark business in Cleveland, while their female counterparts are at once sucking wind – and not much else. Thus the new meaning for the old acronym.
I’m not sure whether the article’s author really made a scientific survey or not. I kind of doubt it considering he didn’t talk to any trannies – who would be the section of the biz that would profit most handsomely at the gathering – assuming the conventioneers do have gay tendencies. Continue Reading
At this point in time, we all pretty much know that marijuana usage is pervasive on all levels of American society – and certainly not the exclusive domain of the lower strata. Just for example, I used to know a guy (25 years ago) who earned 75 k per year selling weed to doctors, lawyers, architects and the like. He established a $75 minimum to keep away the “trash” and still made a handsome living.
While people from all walks of life smoke pot, the manner in which they smoke it differs. Back in college, we rolled joints and/or smoked in water pipes. While on vacation in Europe after college graduation, I briefly traveled with some Danish guys who smoked out of a chillum – an apparatus which looked more like a trombone mouthpiece than paraphernalia with which to get high on reefer. And then there’s the segment of society which eats its pot in the form of brownies, cookies, and even candy. One Christmas, the owners of Somad gifted me with all manner of edibles I could get high off! I gave them away. I prefer to smoke my weed…not eat it! Continue Reading
On numerous occasions, I’ve met girls in this business who’ve bragged “I could write a book” – meaning their bizarre experiences would be so fascinating that if ghost-written by a professional, the narration would be of great interest to the general reading public. Exercising my altruistic affirmative action initiative (or maybe I was just looking to get laid), I’ve responded with “write me something halfway decent and I’ll help you get it published” only to discover that the girl was completely full of crap. Only once in 20 years did somebody call my bluff and actually deliver something worthy.
The author’s name is Brianna, a superbusty feature dancer who once graced the pages of Score and Gent…in between working as a buck private escort for the bitch she summarily defecates on in this sordid jewel. The following is that effort, a long and entertaining piece about her trials and tribulations slaving for a gross-out owner who I can tell you first hand…was no walk in the park.
I don’t have the original as submitted – and having reread the article in its entirety – can tell that the first 500 words are ghostwritten. But after that, it’s all Brianna. And some of it is pretty fucking entertaining. Her story was inserted as the first feature in April 2002’s Escort Magazine – along with her photo on the cover – and brought what Brianna described as an “overwhelming response.”
Here’s the feature as published: Continue Reading
Clouds of marijuana smoke under the bridge notwithstanding, there are a few things I remember about my first shift driving a cab. In fact, I can remember a lot of things about that first shift – even though it was 34 years ago. Like just for example, I recall that my first fare was a suit going to La Guardia. He offered me 20 bucks to get him there as fast as I could. Why he offered that much money (the fare was more like $13 at the time) eluded me until I realized I hadn’t even flicked the switch on the “off duty” light before leaving the garage. Duh! That’s why he made his generous offer.
I remember that later that first night, a woman asked me to take her to the Waldorf…to which I responded “Where’s the Waldorf?” Getting a hack license back then didn’t require much more than a guy having 20 bucks and a pulse – obviously. She asked me what kind of cab driver I was if I didn’t even know where the Waldorf was located?!?! I answered “a new one! This is my first night.” She laughed and told me where to go and I got her there like a pro. Hey! I could drive! I just didn’t know where anything was. I even got lost on the Lower East Side! East Broadway? I didn’t know there was an East Broadway! And Madison Street? Get the fuck outta here. There’s no Madison Street – or so I thought! Continue Reading
Psycho Bill moniker notwhithstanding, I’m actually one of the most level-headed people you’d ever want to meet. And given that I operate in a world full of let’s just say…not so level-headed women…there are times when I become a confidant of sorts to some of the girls who will tell me the most intimate details of their life. Now I’m not talkin’ lovers who divulge their innermost secrets during pillow talk. I’m talking platonic friends who have known me for years and have come to trust my judgement, discretion and friendship to the point that they will tell me almost anything. So…I was on the phone with one of these individuals a couple of days ago and somehow and why I can’t remember, she described the where and when of her first orgasm. Continue Reading
Despite my advancing age, I am not yet a dinosaur when it comes to technology. Mostly, I’m down with computers, smart phones and texting even if Facebook and Twitter leave me flaccid. But there’s one thing I’ve had enough of. And that’s people strolling down the street bumping into shit because they have their noses buried in a smart phone. Sorry! This I find completely fucking retarded.
Exactly what is so important on that stupid phone that an idiot can’t wait until he or she is stationary before they delve so deeply into their contraption? What the fuck? How many times have I been cruising in a bike lane when some moron steps off the curb and right into my path as he or she stares intently at their iPhone? Answer: Too many times! Continue Reading