I guided my heap into the heart of Capitol Hill wondering for the first time in fourteen years what I could do to get money besides drive cabs or rob banks. Both occupations had their pros and cons. For instance, bank robbery isn't quite as dangerous as cab driving, but it pays better.

I was in the land of fakes and frauds and phonies-I felt like saying “Howdy cousin,” to everybody who walked by.

Work/Loaf Ratio”...I have spent fourteen years perfecting... I won't bore you with a long-winded explanation of the “W/LR” save to say that it is an algebraic formula of such complex numeric subtlety that it can be understood only by mathematicians and hobos.

I've been broke, and I've been in debt, and broke is better.

She looked confused. She looked off-balance. That's a technique I employ to get dates, and it always works.

That was how I was going to get things back to normal-by working. I never thought I would use the words “working” and “normal” in the same sentence, but I'll try anything to avoid facing reality.

Being a cab river is not unlike being a magician--minus the top hat, the cape, the rabbit, an the gorgeous assistant. But you do have an audience.