Sometimes I’ll hear a song and immediately things start happening inside my weird brain. Occasionally I’ll just sit down and write. That’s how Doreen, a short musical happened. This started with a Hall and Oates song down at Champs Sports Bar. I don’t know why it happens, but it does. Hopefully your brain knows the songs. Meanwhile I’ll seek medical advice.
Doreen, a short musical
I swaggered into the bar and spotted a seat in Dave’s section. Dave at the time was my personal bartender and a fine young man to boot. I sat down and made myself comfortable. I was feeling good that day. I was after all a cabbie and there were only a select few people that could call themselves that. Dave was working with Niles and Barry, a couple of good kids and there was a nice rhythm to the place that evening.
Dave: “Hey Cabbie, the uuuzzzhhh?”
Me, “You got it my young friend. Tough day behind the wheel and the old boy needs to lubricate the joints if you get my drift.”
Just then a good looking young woman walked into the bar. She stopped at the door surveying the place and then not surprisingly, picked the seat right next to me. And why not! I was after all a cabbie and young good looking women loved cab drivers. We were the last cowboys. We’re absolute mavericks by God and slightly worse than bikers. I glanced at her and she glanced at me. I smiled that reckless cabbie smile and she smiled back. I asked:
Me: “What’s your name?”
The young lady: “Why, it’s Doreen. You’re a Cabbie aren’t you?”
Me with a knowing smile: “Yup, how could you tell?”
Doreen: “The good looks and that bulge in your Cargo pants. Sure sign you’re a cabbie.”
Me at first surprised and then pointing: “Bulge? Oh, you mean that!”
Just then Dave, Niles and Barry whirled around with their arms locked and they began to sing a Hall and Oates song, “Say It Isn’t So.”
“Say it!”
“Say it isn’t SOoooOHooo!”
“Say it!”
“Say it isn’t SOOHooo!”
The boys did a quick side step and then whirling again they kicked their legs and continued with Dave doing the lead.
“Say it isn’t so painful to tell me that you’re dissatisfied!”
“Last time I asked you I really got a lame excuse!”
“I know that you liiiieeeed!”
“Now wicked things can happen…you see em goin down in war.”
“But when you play in a quiet way that bites it even morerrrerooorr!”
I gave Dave that “What?” look and they stopped and promptly went back to work. I fixed my gaze back on Doreen. She was obviously smitten by my good looks and charm, not to mention that bulge in my Cargo pants. The bulge was a sure sign you were a cabdriver. I reached into my right pants pocket and pulled out my cabbie wad. It was a good two inches thick and the last time I’d counted, it contained fifty three ones, six fives, a ten and two crisp twenties.
Me: “Dave, get this woman a drink, ON ME! She obviously knows class when she sees it.”
Well the dimwits whirled again, arms locked, did that two step thing and sang some more:
“Say it!”
“Say it isn’t SOoooOHooo!”
“Say it!”
“Say it isn’t SOOHooo!”
I kinda gave Dave the evil eye and ran my finger across my throat. They immediately stopped. I did have to admit they were pretty damn good. As a matter of fact Niles even looked a bit like John Oates, except he was even shorter.
Doreen as Dave set her shot of Jaeger in front of her: “Thanks Cabbie. Goodness that’s a big cabbie wad. Men like you just drive me crazy. That’s why I’m always flashing them my boobs when I’m in a cab. I just can’t help myself. You guys are like Catnip to a cat if you know what I mean?”
Me: “I know. It’s a curse I live with, boobs being flashed and all. I’m constantly having underwear, bras and panties thrown into the front seat. At times it’s actually a safety issue. Almost had my eye poked out last month when a bra with that little wire under-liner got tossed at me. I’m always professional about it though and hand them back. You can’t have a woman walking around half naked on account of an encounter with a cab driver.”
Just then a guy walked into the bar and he was obviously a pilot. He had the hat, the white short sleeved shirt with telltale bars on the shoulders and a pair of wings on the right pocket. He sat down across from us and fixed his gaze on Doreen. Noticing I said:
Me: “The fly boy over there seems to fancy you a bit. Probably has a condo in San Diego and flies to some pretty exotic places.”
Doreen: “Pilots bore the hell out of me; I mean they’re nothing more than airborne computer geeks. They can’t ever introduce themselves without saying “And I fly for United.” Who cares! They wear those silly uniforms and pay with credit cards. I like real men. That’s why I like cab drivers. Not a one of them dresses the same, they’re all so colorful.
Me chuckling: “I guess you’re right about that. Hell, I have seven pairs of Cargo pants and they’re all different colors. I have sixteen different T-Shirts. Why, a couple of them are actually Fruit of the Loom and I have six different hooded sweat shirts. I wouldn’t be caught dead in a uniform.”
Doreen gushed: “Cab drivers are the coolest! What do you drive?”
Me smiling: “2006 Crown Vic to be exact. She only has 193,000 miles on her and I have fake roses in the back window and two pine scented air wicks hanging from the visors.”
Doreen with great big eyes: “You’re kidding! For real? That just sooooo cool”
Just then, unbeknownst to us, the pilot walked up to Doreen:
Pilot: “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you. My name’s Brandon and I fly a triple seven for United. Can I buy you a drink?”
Doreen: “Get lost you creep! Can’t you see I’m with a real man, a man that drives a 2006 Crown Vic with pine scented air wicks and fake roses in the back window? Buzz off fly boy!”
Well ole Brandon stood there for a second stupefied and then he high tailed it back to his bar stool.
Just then Dave and the boys whirled and with their damn arms locked again began to sing.
“Say it!”
“Say it isn’t SOoooOHooo!”
“Say it!”
“Say it isn’t SOOhooo!”
God they were beginning to get on my nerves!
Me shouting: “Dave, give it a break will ya! Yer killing me over here. Can’t you see I’m busy? Oh and get the fly boy over there, the one with his wings between his tail a drink on me. He probably wants a light beer or something.
Well the singing trio dispersed and Dave dutifully got the guy a Coors light and like all pilots he had to have it in a chilled glass. With that taken care of I returned to the luscious lady next to me.
Me: “You were a bit harsh on the fly boy there.”
Doreen: “Maybe so, but I just get so tired of that “Fly Me” B. S. I’d just as soon get things over with quickly. I mean what nerve. He could see I was sitting here with you, but nooooo, he still has to come on to me.”
Me: “Well you put him in his place that’s for sure.”
Doreen: “So Mr. Cab Driver what are you doing tonight?”
Me: “Well I’m going to go home and do some Yoga, and then probably read some Homer before turning in.”
Doreen: “Uh, maybe you’d like some company tonight. You could read to me and I’d flash my boobs and stuff.”
Me: “Well I could, but we’ve only just met and I think the honorable thing to do is respectfully decline your offer, although I’m sure you’re a real sugar treat. The right thing for me to do is solo tonight while pounding down the Iliad and the Odyssey.
Doreen gushing: “You cabbies are such knights in shining armor. Oh my goodness, I just feel so flushed to be around a man like you.”
With that said Doreen reached down and pulled her lovely chiffon colored blouse up and there for the world to see, especially the cabbie, were her boobs. Just then Dave and the boys whirled and they began singing, what???
“You make me feel”
“You make me feel”
“Like a Natural woomaan”
Well, that did it. I grabbed my Cabbie Wad and threw it at Dave and the guys. As I was doing this my brain was going, “Not Smart, Not Smart, Not Smart.” Dave plucked the wad of money out of the air like a lizard flicks its tongue at a fly.
Dave: “Hey, wow, thanks Cabbie! You’re the greatest!”
Just then I heard this sound. It was at first a strange sound and I couldn’t quite get my head around it. I looked to my right and Doreen was gone. I looked back for Dave and he was gone too. The sound, what’s that sound? It sounded like, it was, the voices of a boys choir! The voices were high and they were singing a song, a song that sounded familiar. Christ, had I died? Where in the hell was I? The voices, they were singing:
I saw her today at a reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man
No, you can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need
Shit! It was my alarm clock and I needed to get my ass out of bed and climb into that damn cab again and who the hell is Doreen? It must have been a dream. I’ve got to stop eating that dark chocolate before I go to bed, it’s making me crazy. What I need is a day off.
