False Taxicab Confessions


As we left one hotel for another in Las Vegas my cousin Becky and I stepped into a cab. The driver was a woman with an accent that was later revealed to be Italian. The cabbie asked why we were in Vegas. We explained it was a family reunion and that we were cousins. The cabbie told me, “You should take your cousin to a strip club. That is what cousins do.”

I explained that was not a good idea. “She used to be a stripper.”

Becky went with it. “It brings back bad memories. But now I’m a doctor.”

“We were very worried when she chose that path. We thought she would be stealing drugs from the hospital.”

The driver was a good sport and joked around with us. I told her, “You’re the first woman cab driver I’ve ever had.”

“Life sometimes sucks.” she said. “When are your birthdays?”

Becky told the driver her birthday. I told her mine. Then I asked her, “When’s yours?”

The driver said, “Hold on.” She was carrying numbers in her head and doing arithmetic with her fingers. “You are very good friends. I know you are cousins, But you are friends too. Sometimes father and child are friends. Sometimes huband and wife. Sometimes not.”

So far we were impressed with what the driver said was not a Zodiac reading, but rather numerology, “You are both into building. You like structure.”

I couldn’t see that being true. I’m a fan of freedom and Becky of chaos. But then the driver lost all legitimacy as she told us we were both hard workers. At that point we got to the Manderlay hotel. We reached into our pockets and we only had enough between us for a two dollar tip and the driver gave us the most accurate of all her readings, “You are both very cheap.”


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