I was having coffee at home one morning and my doorbell rang. A chubby, but fairly attractive blond woman was at my at my door. She asked if she could speak to my son.
Well, I live in Henderson, Nevada, and my son lives in Staten Island, New York, so I was a bit confused by her question.
The woman then hemmed and hawed a bit and said "If you don't mind my asking, is your son a young black man?"
Now I was even more confused. "Ya know..." I said, "the last time I saw my son he was a white kid, but things are so crazy these days...who knows? Maybe now he's black. Maybe he changed his name from Stephen to Stephanie for all I know. Ya want me to phone my son and ask him? He lives in Staten Island."
Well, as it turned out, the blond woman was a cab driver. She had driven this young black fellow from Las Vegas to my address in Henderson and he had asked her to wait a minute in my driveway while he went into the house to get money from his father.
I felt terrible for the woman. I felt bad about my earlier cavalier attitude in her plight; but I'm a naturally funny guy and I suppose it couldn't be helped.
The young black man in question had done the woman out of a seventy-four dollar fare. And who knows how big a tip he might have left her? Well, I had driven a cab for a couple of years in New York City myself and I can tell you from experience that the tip would have been non-existent. That's just the way it is.
Well, long story short, it turns out the young black fella had catapulted himself over my backyard fence, and then over my backyard wall, and he had run off. My neighbors had seen him. I hadn't seen a thing. It's not easy to jump my fence. Young fella may be training for the Olympics.
Well, I felt bad for the taxi driver, but what was I to do? At the time I couldn't afford to give her the seventy-four bucks although I did wish I could.
A few months later there was a banging at my door. As I opened my door a young white man had turned from my door and was running toward the front of my house. I went to my front room and looked out the window. His taxi-cab was whipping out of my driveway in hot pursuit.