A cabdriver and a swimming pool

This crotchety middle-aged cab driver lives across the street from me in a potentially cute but unkempt double with an ugly half-fallen-off awning over the porch. I’ve heard he supposedly lives there with his mother, but I’ve never seen her. I suspect she might be buried in the back yard. He’s a real old-school Yat, probably lived in that house since he was a kid.

During the summer, he comes out dressed in plastic shower shoes and those 70s-style running shorts that are cut higher on the side, with ribbon covering the stitching. That’s all he’s wearing. He has a thin frame, but with a swollen beer gut stretching out over the top of his shorts. It’s pretty unappetizing. It’s a sight that makes the male form seem unappealing, which is actually kind of a benefit when I’m going through a bout of celibacy. Anyway, he puts on a t-shirt when he drives, but he’s still wearing those shorts.

Last night, for at least a half hour starting around 11, he was out in his front yard throwing bottles and trash into the street and screaming obscenities.

“A real buncha fuckin assholes around here, you wanna piece of my white ass, come and get it motherfucker, ya fuckin son of a bitch….” Etc., etc.

It’s all kind of Psycho meets Taxi Driver meets Confederacy of Dunces.

Apparently someone dumped some garbage in his front yard, which is admittedly pretty rude. But the thing is his yard looks like a dump, anyway. And once he got done screaming and throwing, his front yard was clear for the first time since I’ve lived on the street. All the garbage was on the sidewalk, and not in a bag, either.

He thought one of the wanna-be ghetto thugs from around the corner did it, but paranoid minds might consider the possibility that MP is secretly behind it all. It’s well known that MP has wanted to get his hands on that house for a long time. Maybe he figures a little harassment is what it will take to finally get the cab driver to sell. I wonder if he’s capable of such deviousness.

Anyway, it’s really hot and we’re all close to going off the rails. Except AD, I guess. He just got back from India, compared to which New Orleans is cool, clean and orderly.

As for me, I am grateful that S has a friend who is house sitting at a place with a pool, and that she has invited me to come with her to a little pool and dinner party tonight. Right now a swimming pool seems more desirable than sex and chocolate put together.