Drivers – The Quarter Rat

Jive Turkey Day

There are so many traditions associated with Thanksgiving: Gorging on three days’ worth of food in one meal, bickering with in-laws over politics, a week’s wage lost on football games and the occasional errant balloon injuring dozens at the Macy’s Parade.

Here in New Orleans, specifically the French Quarter, the tradition of accusing businesses of being racist. This ritual stems from the Bayou Classic, the annual college football game hosted at the Superdome between Grambling State and Southern University. Again, we host the rival college game for the 52nd season. New Orleans will be populated by thousands of fans from historically Black colleges.

This happens to coincide with the time when many of our businesses may choose to close their doors for a few days around Thanksgiving and the following weekend. This has, in many previous years, brought up allegations of our local business having a racial motivation for the closures because it directly impacts the fun the visitors are able to have on Bourbon Street. There will be many social media posts calling out the “racist business owners” for blatant discrimination. The outrage is fatter than any genetically modified turkey.

As a service industry worker here in The French Quarter for the past 15 years, allow me to offer these insights.

First, as service workers we are expected, even demanded to work long, hard hours for every other major and minor holiday during the rest of the year. Christmas, New Year’s Eve, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Memorial Day, Mother’s Day, the Fourth of July, Labor Day and Halloween. Not to mention Mardi Gras, the rest of the city just shuts down for it.”

Good luck trying to find any local business to return a call as Carnival starts to get into full swing. Other than the essential government services like police and fire who like us have no choice, the city government practically closes down. If you were so presumptuous as to dare to ask your employer for time off, his laughter would drown out the jukebox. You either work 12 hour shifts for a week straight like your coworkers or you can quit.

Thanksgiving Day has become sort of a default for staff to have one holiday to enjoy being served instead of serving. We too have friends and families that we would relish time to spend with. Being a traditional family-oriented holiday, karaoke on Bourbon Street isn’t the first activity that comes to mind. It’s not that big of an ask. How about a little support for the working proletariat pushing back against heartless capitalist systems denying us of our basic human need to enjoy a holiday.

Second: This time is often spent by the businesses to do much needed maintenance work to their establishments. Most are open seven days a week and are only closed for a few hours per day. That’s enough time to clean and do simple repairs, but major work that may take a couple of days cannot be addressed in a couple of hours. I know of one establishment utilizing this year’s closure to do some floor tile work. It needs a few days of no one walking on it to set properly. These old buildings require a lot of services, plumbing, painting, electrical etc. That cannot be rushed.

Third: To accuse any establishment in New Orleans of being “rAcIst” is ludicrous. Take a look around any other weekend; half of the staff and customers are most likely Black. What do you think? Behind all of the shuttered doors and windows this weekend Klan meetings are being held?

Allow me to submit this piece of evidence. July Fourth weekend New Orleans hosts Essence Fest, an exclusively Black event that our doors are always open to welcome them and their money. We’re capitalists, the only color we care about is green. If they were the crackers that online warriors claim they are, then Billy Bob would be able to find an excuse to close for that Black event as well.

Just allow the service industry workers to have one holiday for themselves and allow the maintenance workers some time to glue everything back together.

Halloweeny

Working in the service industry can be pretty boring sometimes. The same ole everyone else having fun while you work. Halloween is one of those days that breaks up the boredom and monotony. Patrons parade in and out in some great costumes and generally that night draws a different crowd. Not the usual weekend partiers but those that only go out a few times a year as they grow older. Looking for fun and not afraid to splurge.

When I drove cab at night in New jersey it was actually kind of fun on Halloween. Always busy, good tips and a non-stop spectacle. Creative garb sometimes lampooning topical news stories, superheroes, sexy nurses or sexy cops with a sprinkling of drunken zombies. At the end of my night, I would vacuum up all of the feathers, sequins and props.

I never knew what to expect when the customer would walk towards my Crown Vic. I always kissed up by complementing their creativity. We had this one weekend regular who always took a cab to a local club “The Headliner” in Neptune NJ. Each year they had a massive costume contest with a $1,000 prize or something. Even though he was a regular and I heard his address dispatched countless times, this was the first night I actually had him as my passenger.

He exited his apartment (40-ish) wearing torn blue jeans, Converse high-tops, an AC/DC black T-shirt, leather biker jacket, baseball cap and the cheesiest shoulder length black wig. Totally nailed the Mike Myer’s “Wayne’s World” character. When he climbed in, I greeted him with “Hey, Wayne!” He responded with a “Huh?” I guess it didn’t register with him. As I dropped him off at The Headliner I said, “Good luck with the contest.” All though I knew there would be way better costumes than his.

A month or so later, dispatch radios me his address again going to the same place. A couple of minutes after being out front he exits the apartment wearing torn blue jeans, Converse high-tops, an AC/DC black T-shirt, leather biker jacket, baseball cap and the cheesy shoulder length black wig. That wasn’t a costume he was wearing on Halloween, it’s how he always dresses right down to the cheap wig. I mentioned this to the dispatcher back at the cab stand and he laughed “Not a costume, he’s been dressing like that for years!”

10 years later on Halloween I’m working as a dishwasher at a Sicilian restaurant in the French Quarter. The place had been slammed all night. It was close to closing and I was trying to keep caught up. I stuck my head out of the kitchen to see a table of 6 getting up to leave. I grab the plastic tub and start bussing the table as a couple stayed to take care of the tab. The two were maybe in their late 30’s, very professional looking with nice costumes. I can’t remember hers, but he was Kato from The Green Hornet. I mean every detail. The exact hat, mask and chauffeur suit. Neither of them seemed to be having a good night.

“Hey KATO! Did you enjoy your meal?”
His head snapped in my direction as he was paying the tab. “What did you call me?”
“Uhm, Kato? From the Green Hornet, right?”
“Thank fuckin god! Someone tonight knew who the fuck I am! You are the only one, THANK YOU!”
He pulls a $20 out of his wallet and tosses it on the table for me.
“Naw that’s ok man..”
“NO! You take it. You made my night that at least one person knew who Kato was!”
I glanced at his wife who was now kind of smirk-giggling. I guess she was relieved her husband was in a less pissy mood now.

So, this Halloween have fun, make money and keep guessing.

Fuck Bruce Springsteen

Let me take you back to when I was driving cab at night on the Jersey Shore back in 2008. I’d go in from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m., six days a week. My evenings started in a tiny cab stand/dispatch office right off of Main Street in a town notorious for rowdy summertime drinking, and popular with tourists from Northern New Jersey and New York area.

I even had the asshole dudes from the MTV show “Jersey Shore” in my cab one summer night. It was during the first season and I never heard of them or the show. The guy with the spikey hair jumped into the front seat and barked to me “Jever hear of the show Jersey Shore? We’re on it!” I responded “Never heard of it, the fare is still $17.” If I had only known, I would’ve driven all of us head on into a New Jersey Transit commuter train. I could have been the one to have ended that show in the first season if I had any idea of what the future would be. It’s like having been Hitler’s baby sitter and looking back on how you could’ve saved humanity needless suffering if you had only drowned the little shit in the bath tub.

I digress. I would sit in the small office waiting for my cab to show up from the day driver ending his shift. We had this one dispatcher, I’ll call him Ron. The time would drag on for what seemed like hours as I sat there and listened to this man. Chronic bullshitter. Nonstop. Only he believed his own bullshit stories. Pathological liar and a pretty crummy human being.

Racist too. Not like today’s “racism” you know, milk is racist, time is racist, math is racist, crosswalks are racist, etc. I’m talking actual, hateful ignorant racist. Always used the “N-word” whenever Black people weren’t around. Constant use of the word, belittling and demeaning comments about Blacks and Mexicans. A true racist.

In 2008, I was mildly following the primaries for presidential nominations. I never would vote for either a Republican or Democrat, which are the same things in my view. I won’t partake in your farce of the two-party system. I follow politics the same way some guys follow sports. During elections I like to say, “When watching a knife fight, I’ll cheer for the knives.” Politics are a dirty business of manipulation and spin.

Barrack Obama was just starting to come out of virtually nowhere and was the center of attention for being the first establishment black candidate that might have enough support to win the nomination. The press was fawning over him and it would only get more and more cringe. I even kind of liked the guy and hoped he would get the nomination just to flip out assholes like Ron.

Ron: “Can you believe the Democrats are actually thinking of nominating an (N-word) with an Arab name? 9-11 was only seven years ago and they want to elect a fucking towel head to President.” (His words, not mine)

Night after night he would go off on Obama. Watermelon and fried chicken in the White House jokes, Black House jokes, spinner wheel rims on the POTUS limo jokes. I couldn’t wait for my Mercury to pull up so I could get out of his fucking Klan meeting. We drivers kept our mouths shut. He would’ve given anyone who contradicted him the crappiest car in the fleet just for chastising him. You can’t fix other people’s stupid.

I came in after my one day a week off and walked past Ron’s pick up truck in the parking lot. Yes, a raised Chevy 4-wheel-drive pickup truck. Talk about stereotypes, we had them in Jersey too. I noticed on his back bumper an “OBAMA BIDEN 08” bumper sticker. I laughed my ass off. Someone had trolled him good by slapping that on his pride and joy. He will flip the fuck out when he finally sees it on his truck I thought.

I could hear his bellowing blow hard voice 20 feet from the door of the office. He had a “dry drunk” personality. Sober for a decade or more but still that loud, obnoxious opinionated drunk character. “Christ, he’s talking politics again.” As I stepped into the office while he was spouting off.

“FUCK John McCain! That mother fucker will just get us in more damn wars like Bush did. He’ll ban abortion, you know it. No, I listened to Obama’s speech and that man is a fucking genius. Best thing for America right now. Fuck Republicans.”

I stepped back out and checked to make sure that I had the right building, went back in. Yep, it was dysfunction junction all right. I sat down to start my paper work and to try and understand the slip in the space time continuum that I was experiencing.

Only 48 hours earlier he was using terms like “tap-dancing monkey” now he is campaigning for Obama. What the actual fuck was my mantra as I jumped into my rig and headed to the 7-Eleven on Ocean Avenue for my first 20-ounce coffee of the night. I got back in my cab and turned-on the radio for news from an New York City AM radio station.

“On Sunday New Jersey’s favorite son Bruce Springsteen announced his endorsement for Presidential hopeful Barrack Obama.” The dark roast coffee ejaculated from my nose onto the steering wheel mid sip.

THAT’S WHY!

Reason number one why I hate Springsteen: So many fucking people in New Jersey think the sun rises out of Springsteen’s ass crack every morning. They all claim to have met him. Guys from the ages of 40 to 90 claimed to have gone to school with him, or lived next door to him.

He was from our area, Belmar, New Jersey. The music store where he bought his iconic guitar was in the center of our town. Shit, I even lived in an apartment on Eleventh Avenue and E Street. I used to pick up or drop off at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park every weekend. I got really sick of even hearing his name and listening to bullshitters like Ron talk about how Bruce was their best buddy.

That was why Ron had flipped a full 180 degrees on Obama. His hero, his man love, his idol Springsteen had endorsed him. A few nights later during a rant, I guess he caught my smirking to his praising of Obama. “Yea I know I was talking shit about Obama in the beginning, but I’ll vote for a (N word) before I vote for McCain.” Now that would be a hell of a campaign bumper sticker I thought to myself.

This also why I hate pop culture getting involved with politics and I think it’s much more prevalent in 2021 with social media. Mindless sheep who put no thought into issues, consequences or policies just regurgitate whatever their pop icons push. The same talking points and narratives, just like their favorite Hollywood actors or pop singers.

If you control the news and entertainment media, you can control the nation. Why I bring this up, today on my day off I had a long on-going debate on Twitter with a YouTuber film critic over Springsteen and his pompous air of “working class hero.” Man of the people in a multi-million dollar mansion, his daughter competing in the equestrian competition in the Tokyo Olympics. No White privilege to see here.

Rumor has it Bruce worked at a gas station in Freehold one summer when he was a teen. That’s the extent of his blue collar experience. His father was a union bus driver in Monmouth County, and supported and financed his musical career at an early age. I actually ended up driving that same bus route in the 1990s, by the way.

Another reason to despise him: Bruce will sing about mills closing down, bad economies, oil refineries not hiring veterans, etc. Yet he fully endorsed Joe Biden for president even after Biden made it clear he would not allow new oil pipe lines and help to expedite the end of the oil industry in America.

Bruce will sing songs about pointless wars and disenfranchised vets. Yet he endorsed Obama twice even though Obama had more wars than George W. Bush and killed more Muslims than George did. Twenty years later, we’re still there and Biden extends it even more after Donald Trump tried to bring it to a close.

Who the fuck are you trying to fool, Bruce? You are an establishment elitist. There is fucking nothing “Rock and Roll” or “Working class hero” about you. You are an arrogant corporate shill. Bourgeoisie hypocrite.

(BTW, you should have called a cab to pick you up, it would have saved you the D.U.I. charge.)

If you’re listening to a rock star in order to get your information on who to vote for, you’re a bigger moron than they are.
Alice Cooper