The first King Gino Report
This is about:
African Americans, Africans, Bronx, Cuba, Cuban refugee, Facebook, Frankie Boy, gay bar, Jeff Blankfort, leather bar, night people, race, strip club, strippers, taxi, the Bronx, The Eagle
I told you a little bit about Frankie Boy and his reports. I was being kind. Gloves off .
Frankie Boy is a taxi driver who might remind you of the Jackie Gleason character Ralph Kramden. He's big and loud. And truth to tell, crude. I'm old, arthritic and walk with a cane so I've not wanted to invite a beating which could end my working days.
At times Frankie Boy would ventilate his frustration with trips to the depths of Brooklyn or the Bronx, with no tip at the end of it. When Frankie Boy's face gets red and he goes off on Black passengers I worry for him in a way. You see, most of the drivers in my garage are African immigrants. Most barely react. There's one African guy who takes polite exception I sometimes tell Frankie Boy to can it, or stop over generalizing, and that if he doesn'tcalm down he's going to have a stroke . Frankie Boy is son of Cuban refugees. I don't think there are many of them driving taxis, but Frankie Boy is one, just like I'm a New York Jew. There are surely more New York Jews driving taxis than Cuban Americans. I never asked Frankie Boy his story, but part of it is probably about his dissappearances and trips to Cuba, trips he enjoys immensley as he reports. He's crude. He whips out his cell phone to show images of attractive naked brown skinned young women. He can work like a dog for a few months, save up a relatively small stash and live like a rock star for a month in Cuba. When you drive for a taxi fleet you can come and go as you please.
Anyhow I think he's on to The Frankie Boy Report. I've told him that some of his reports vaguely remind me of highlights of my own shifts, but while he seems to remember virtually everything that happens on his shifts, I remember next to nothing. If I want to have a really successful Taxi Driver Blog I'd better get working on remembering stuff.
Now, because I amble rather than walk, carry a black and silver walking stick, and maybe due also to my white beard, big belly one of the African drivers has dubbed me "the King ." Others call me Gino. Here's the first King Gino Report.