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July 27, 2007

July 27, 2007 – The Chilango and Pure Platinum

Today I was sent to “The Palms”, which is a large condominium complex.  Or perhaps better known as the “Taco Towers” to the locals.  I didn’t come up with the nickname, the people who inhabit the condos did, so no hate mail ok.  I have heard numerous people who live there refer to the towers as such, actually it’s Mexicans that live there for the most part who call it that.  They have a good sense of humor.  Until recently I wasn’t familiar with the term.
             
            I was on the cab stand yesterday and overheard two Mexican drivers talking about “Chilangos.”  When I asked what “Chilangos” were they told me that it was a slang term for wealthy Mexicans that were natives of Mexico City.  From what I gather it didn’t harbor a negative connotation.
            
            Then I realized that I had picked up a Chilango just the other day.  When I arrived, a man in his late 50’s approached. He was well dressed and wanted to go to a strip club that he had been to the night before.  He sort of looked like a spokes person for Dos Equis.  Now that I think about it that’s what he was drinking that night.  Huh. 


 He was quite drunk and his English was terrible but we were able to still converse a little.  He told me that he was out visiting his daughter who lives in The Palms for a week or so.  When we got to the strip club, Pure Platinum it was called he asked me to join him inside.  Being how it was a busy night I told him that I had to go back to Cortez and try to make a little more money for the night.  This guy was persistent.  He even tried tugging me out of the car.  I was getting a little irritated, but the man had such a jovial demeanor that I just couldn’t be angry with him. 

After a bit I agreed, but with an agreement.  I told the man that I could only stay for 90 mins tops, that he would have to pay the meter for the way there as well as to take a ride back in my taxi, pay whatever waiting time accumulated, and that he would have to pay my cover.  He gladly obliged.

He was quite accommodating, overly so in fact.  He kept trying to buy me water, which I wasn’t interested in.  He didn’t care, even at $8 per bottle.  $8 per bottle? Really?  This guy bought me three waters, I think I only drank one. 

So the 90 minute mark had come and passed and  I was ready to go.  This wasn’t exactly some classy joint either.  Problem was that this guy was absolutely smitten with this one girl.  She was Hispanic as well, although he was convinced that she was Russian for some reason.   He kept looking over to me and telling me how beautiful she was.  She was not.  But I humored him, how could I not.  I think he was buying her drinks too, I could only imagine what they cost.  He wasn’t worried, and I wouldn’t be either if I had a quarter inch thick stack of hundreds in my hand.  This guy was spending money like it was water.  $8 water to be exact.

What was really obnoxious was that all these strippers from the club kept coming up to me and asking me if I “want a dance.”  I tried being nice about it and simply told them that I wasn’t there by choice and that I was actually trying to get my passenger to leave.  One stripper/hooker came up to me and got right to the chase.  “Do you have any money for me,” she said.  “Nope” I offered.  Needless to say she wasn’t thrilled.  But seriously, that’s pretty fucking rude.  I’m not one of your regular shitbag customers who just got off his job at the cannery and decided to start the night off at 5 p.m. on a Tuesday with a round of the clubs cheapest beer.  Give me a little credit.

After a bit the man had grown fond of another girl and abandoned the “Russian.”   Well since I was his company she started hounding me for money.  She quickly realized that I wasn’t interested and dropped the subject.  Then she let is slip that the Chilango had gotten so drunk that he actually bought a lap dance with her and forgot to cash it in.  Well why let it go to waste right?

So we made our way over to the other side where they had these barstool like objects that she sat me down on.  Not only were here movements jerky and sporadic she was overwhelmingly ugly.  I couldn’t really get a good look at her earlier.  I was quickly regretting my decision…  She had an ass that was probably twice as wide as her torso, complete with lumpy cellulite, a big gap between her front teeth, and worst of all, this creepy lazy eye that she kept gazing at me with.  Needless to say the lap dance sucked, thank god I didn’t pay for it.  It’s a shame though because I bet the Chilango would have really enjoyed it.

By now it’s nearing 2 a.m. and the bouncers are scrambling to get everyone out of there and my passenger isn’t interested.  The manager then comes over and speaks to my fare in Spanish instructing him that it’s time to go.  Then the bouncers came over.  After escorting my passenger out of the club we went back to Cortez.  When we arrived back at The Palms the man gave me $120 for a $100 fare.  I was pleasantly surprised, and satisfied, but tired.  It was time for bed.

1 comment:

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