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Richard Bostwick Reminiscences Welfare Office Stories Cab Driving Stories Prohibition Stories |
The Last One To Know A cab driver often knows more about the private lives of some of his steady customers than the customers themselves do. A case in point concerned a certain local businessman who ran a small shop uptown. He was a very pleasant person and all of us drivers liked him quite well-not on account of the tip he always gave you, but due to the fact that he was a real nice guy. This fellow had a standing order with our firm for transportation home each night at the close of business. I guess I should say each morning, for he closed his shop at 1:00 a.m. Which ever of us drivers happened to be first out at the time would pick him up at his shop and drive him home. Now, unbeknown to him, but known to most of us drivers, this man had a very promiscuous wife. I, as well as other drivers, had seen her in some very compromising situations. Like the time I answered a call to a certain motorcycle shop, I saw her come up to the showroom from the basement in company with several bike riders. They had to help her into my cab for she was quite drunk and disheveled. One particular night when it came time to pick him up, I was first out and as I pulled up in front of his shop, I could see him standing just inside the door. He had already turned out all of the lights except for the night-light. He came out, locked the door, and as he got into my cab he said, “Take me home.” He lived upstairs over a grocery store in the residential part of our town. The building sat back aways from the sidewalk, and it had an open porch running clear across the front. The entrance to my passenger's quarters opened out on one end of his porch. As I pulled up in front of his home, someone stepped out of his entrance and vaulted over the low railing at the end of the porch. They then hid behind a large elm tree that grew along side. My passenger anxiously asked, “Did you see that?” I said I thought I had, but who could it be? As he always carried the day's receipts with him, he felt sure it was someone waiting to rob him. He told me to hurry up and get out of there. As I pulled away, I looked over my shoulder and saw a man running the other way as fast as he could. We drove around a couple of blocks and when we returned, I walked up to the porch with him and of course there was no one around. They should have watched the time a little closer…
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Institute for Regional Studies Home Page 701-231-8914 Published by the Institute for Regional Studies, NDSU Updated: 7/30/2007 |