May 15, 2006


Raining Cats & Dogs & Geriatric Hookers



I veered to the right as I keenly saw an elderly woman in the pouring rain out of the corner of my eye. She was frantically waving her arms signaling me to pull over. Approaching the curb I simultaneously lowered the power windows and asked where she needed to go. Across the bridge, can you get me there for three dollars? That is all I have, she mumbled. I was already headed in her direction and was ok with pocketing a few extra bucks, so I unlocked the door and let her enter. The unpleasant aroma released from this granny was immediately invading my cozy warm cab and I was thankful she was only crossing the bridge, or at least I was under the impression she only wanted to cross to the other side. The stench had built up from days without bathing and years of drinking cheap domestic beer. Quickly I re-lowered the power windows for a fresh breath of life saving air. She started rapping some innocent gibberish and I assumed she was a harmless sweet drunk. That is until, somewhere within her rambling she blurted out I give great head for five bucks. A tidal wave of inner chuckles was beating down my cheeks begging to escape my lips into wild laughter. I couldnt believe she had suggested this. She was probably sixty years old, missing multiple teeth and smelled worse than rotting fruit. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I told her I was involved with a very sweet girl whom I adored very much, and had I not been committed, I would have taken her up on the offer. Yeah right, the only chance this blue haired prune stood with me was if she knocked me out with chloroform. She was so impressed with my kindness and devotion to my imaginary girlfriend that she would not stop complimenting me on how much of a pleasant character I was. Then the grandma claimed that I was the nicest young man she ever met in her thirty years of working the streets as a prostitute. Just imagine all the diseases and pregnancies that must plague a thirty-year veteran of the streets. Then once again, she busted out with I deep throat great for eight dollars. Wow, from a regular blow job for five bucks to an eight-dollar deep throat, what the hell was she thinking? I would rather let a sharp toothed pit bull lick peanut butter off my dick before Id touch this gnarly old grizzled hooker. I reassured her I was very much in love with my lady and it just wouldnt be fair to her for me to take part in the BJ. It was nearly impossible to avoid busting up laughing in her face, so I decided the ride was more than over with. While still holding my breath, I pulled over and suggested she find another customer somewhere else. It did occur to me for a second to let her keep her last three dollars, but that thought really only lasted for about three seconds. I taxed her for her last bits of change and wished her good luck as she hobbled away in the pouring down rain.

About the Author

Hi, I’m Jason Moffatt, the ex cab driver, and current online nutcase. You see, I’m a freaking madman with like 9000 autobiographical stories, so I felt I would share some of them with you.

Peep my blog, you’ll love it http://www.jasonmoffatt.com

Cheers

Jason Moffatt

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