I’m writing from the streets of St. Paul, where I am borrowing somebody’s Internet signal while I wait for passengers. I dropped off the passengers at this party at the Wild Onion on Grand Ave. Instead of waiting out front, where the St. Paul police officers like to give tickets, I traveled around the block to park. Seeing that Grand Ave only has a few parking spaces here and there, I was forced onto the side residential streets.
While sitting here I was approached by a middle-aged woman who came out verbally swinging. First she didn’t like that I was there. She wanted me to move in front of somebody else’s house so they could deal. Then she spewed her complaints so I turned off the headlights that weren’t actually shining anywhere near her house. But it wasn’t enough, I guess-- She wanted me to turn off the vehicle because exhaust was coming into her windows (it is 35 degrees out). I turned it off.
She was still pissed and wanted to know if my passengers had any affiliation with her neighborhood, suggesting that I had no right to use the public streets if the passengers did not. I asked if her insinuation really mattered. She had no answer. She asked for my company name. As the defensive conversation wound down, I explained to her was that it is illegal for me to park on streets like Grand Ave and I have to park on side streets, which is indirectly true because double parking is illegal and I would not find a legit parking space. She left.
*****
Now I’m in Minneapolis. The group wanted to go to the Gay 90s. This isn’t particularly out of the ordinary, because young people are usually into dancing and the place is a good for that. But my passengers are not young. The youngest is 26. Most members of the group are actually related to each other. In fact, the matriarch of the family is here too. She was the driving force behind the Gay 90s push. OK, done. I’ll take them there.
Upon arrival, the passengers rolled down the window and yelled, “Rock out with your cock out.” I didn’t think anything of it until the bouncers, whom I asked if there were any limo specials, explained that they weren’t going to give any deals to a group that yells obscene messages. They pretty much immediately changed their mind and said I should keep the group together if they wanted the limo special of no cover. The initial comment wasn’t the best way to start off a limo-bouncer relationship, but it worked out anyway.
The group of passengers walked up to the door and one of them was smoking a cigarette and had a vodka-orange juice in his hand. The bouncer told him in a snotty, semi-aggressive tone that he couldn’t bring the drink into the bar. Duh. The bouncer jumped the gun, though, because the passenger was outside the cue chains and had intentions to put the low-ball glass back in the limo. He had done this at each of the previous bars. It didn’t matter because the passenger, Chad, wasn’t taking shit from anybody. He flipped out, started yelling racial slurs at the African American bouncer, and had to be held back by his family members. Chad was ready to pounce. Moreover, the bouncers were provoking the situation even more. They yelled racial slurs in return and baited Chad the whole time. For about three minutes it was a very tense atmosphere, with the limo driver standing off to the side watching it all. Finally the family stuffed Chad into the vehicle before punches were thrown and we drove off.
I told the group that we needed to take a time out and regroup. I said I would need to end the ride if anything like that happened again. I will drop them in a well-lit place regardless of how far we are from Burnsville if it had happens again. (Update: the rest of the night was flawless, thank God)
Chad is a rough guy. Some of the other passengers have informed me that Chad is going to jail in a few weeks for restraining order violations and assault charges – 27 months. That’s a long time, a Peace Corps term! Chad told me he would like to rent a limo in the future because he’s having so much fun, but he said it won’t be for a while because of his “short stint” in jail. Yeah, 27 months – short stint.
Tonight is another night revealing a colorful cross-section of society. I look forward to the next adventure.
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