The Pedi File

Being Hooah

2009-07-21T11:10:00.000-07:00

I am away with my Army unit from 18 July - 1 August.

Fashion Tip

2009-07-16T13:30:00.000-07:00

A man should never carry a parasol

Pedicabs and Taxis

2009-07-09T07:43:00.000-07:00

I haven't ranted in a while, but I want to get this off my chest: a Pedicab is NOT a taxi.

Obvious? You might think so at first glance. One is a Ford Crown Victoria with a frequently grouchy gentleman up front that runs on gasoline with very little human effort necessary. The other is a little green contraption with a smiling dude up front with bulging quad and calf muscles. Gasoline? No thanks, we run on 100% American Muscle. The Pedicab also comes with certain inherent limitations, though. No matter how hard I spin, my legs can never compete with an internal combustion engine in terms of speed or endurance.

That being said, I would appreciate if people would remember that there is a difference.

I first thought about this when Fancy Sean told be about an exchange he had:

Fancy Sean: Hey Sir, can I offer you a ride?
Customer [with obligatory Southern accent]: How much to the Washington Monument?
Fancy Sean: We work for tips, but for that ride we generally get about $10.
Customer: 10 bucks? Shoot, you know I could probably get a taxi for 9.
Fancy Sean: Oh, well I certainly recommend you go save yourself the $1.

I mean c'mon. The guy doesn't realize that pedicabbing his ass takes a lot more effort than pushing a gas pedal? He doesn't at least appreciate that the value of that effort is AT LEAST worth the $1 fare difference? Cheap bastard.

Lately, though, my main problem has been with the Park Police. Specifically with one female Park Police officer that thinks she is some sort of comedian (comedienne?). She apparently has a poor memory because she has approached me the same way twice in front of different museums - and who could forget my pretty face?

Officer: Can I see your hack licence? [Basically a taxi driver's license issued by the city]
Me: Um, I don't have one. I don't drive a taxi.
Officer: Well you do the same job as a taxi, so can I see your hack license?
Me: I drive a pedicab. I don't have a hack license.
Officer: You aren't parked in a taxi stand. You know I can write you a ticket?
Me: I'm not a taxi. I would really appreciate it if you didn't.
Officer: Well, you do the same job as a taxi, so from now on you have to sit in the taxi line or we are going to start arresting you and impounding your cabs. It's not fair to the other taxi drivers that their competitors don't have to wait in taxi lines.
Me: Okay, officer, I'll move along.
My Inner Monologue: Okay Officer, I'll sit in a taxi stand and compete with the taxi drivers that way if they agree to slow to below 10mph at all times, jack up their fares, not leave DC, and once in a while they should get out and push the damn taxi up a hill. Then, we would actually be competing because we sure as heck don't compete now.

Really? I am competing with a taxi? Can I explain how many idiots come up to me joking "Hey, can you take me to college park?" Taxis can actually do that. A taxi ride to the Lincoln Memorial: 5 minutes/$8. A pedicab to the Lincoln Memorial: 20 minutes/$25. I am on a freaking BIKE! WTF!

And, for what it's worth, a Taxi has never honked or complained to me. All the cabbies are very friendly - the usually roll down the window and we chat about how business is that day. We serve different segments of the same market. If the Park Police wants to crack down on vehicles blocking traffic in front of Smithsonian museums, maybe they should have a talk with some of the tour bus operators (the big coaches, not the Tourmobiles) that idle in front of Air and Space and the Natural History Museums. They block more traffic than pedicabs could ever hope to.

She Caught Me

2009-07-09T07:41:00.000-07:00

Madelyn caught me being a bit cocky and a lot chauvinistic. I like a woman that will put me in my place. Kudos to Mad Dog.

I'm Baaaack

2009-07-09T07:38:00.001-07:00

Good god it has been a long time since I've posted anything. I have plenty of excuses but no real reason. It's a combination of: my computer broke and I hate posting via iPhone, my iPhone broke and I lost my list of things I was going to post, and I have been pedicabbing less both out of laziness and lack of time since I started my lobbying internship.

I promise to be more on top of things from now on... except for today. I can't work today because I have a pile of stuff to research and I have stuff to get organized before my big fat Army weekend.

They're Intimidated By Me

2009-06-17T14:42:00.000-07:00

I had a lot of trouble selling rides yesterday. Brian says it's because they are intimidated by how good looking I am. I choose to agree.

Scarcity of Postings

2009-06-16T13:39:00.000-07:00

Apparantly, ladies think it is quite fun to kick my computer off the bed. So, while it is in the shop I have to make due with quickie posts. I should get it back soon though.

Beautiful People of DC

2009-06-09T10:55:00.000-07:00

Just saw a guy blow a snot rocket into the wind. It got all over his shirt. He just rubbed it in with his hand.

On Female Flirting... Part 1

2009-06-04T07:04:00.000-07:00

Ladies, you already know that flirting will generally get you whatever you want. I know that you know this because you do it all the time. And thank you, but just because I don't want to take you from the National Mall to Georgetown for free that doesn't mean I'm gay.

That being said, some of you need to work on your flirting technique. Like the cute girl that came up to me batting her eyes and asked if she could take a picture of her boyfriend driving the bike. First of all, nobody drives the bike but me. Secondly, are you serious? The whole point of flirting is to make us think we have a shot with you. Don't shoot yourself in the foot by using the word "boyfriend." That will get you nowhere fast.

Quote of the Day

2009-06-04T07:03:00.000-07:00

Anonymous: "I once snorted an upside-down bottle cap of [Bacardi] 151."

I've learned...

2009-05-31T10:54:00.001-07:00

I just gave a fat southern lady and her daughter a ride from the Natural History museum to the Lincoln Memorial, normally a $20-25 ride. I laid on the charm. I talked to her kid. I even told her it was my birthday on Tuesday and I wasn't lying. What did she tip me? 10 bucks. I'm so annoyed I couldn't even wait until later to denounce her via blog. I thought about tackling her in the grass by the Korean War Memorial, but I learned my lesson from last time.

I think it threw the rhythm off my whole afternoon.

I never wish physical harm on anyone (unless I'm harming them myself), so how about this: I hope that on their trip back to the Atlanta suburbs they stop for gas and pay $2.70 per gallon, then realize they could have paid $2.49 across the street.

Deep Thought

2009-05-24T14:10:00.000-07:00

I am not a Wal-Mart. Do not try to bargain down 40%

The D-Bag and the Hot Girl

2009-05-13T18:48:00.000-07:00

Ever meet a person and know right away you wouldn't like him? Enter the d-bag.

I picked up the d-bag and his hot girlfriend on the corner of 7th and Madison wanting to go to the White House. He had d-bag facial hair; you know d-bag facial hair. That's when you shave after work so your facial hair grows back to d-bag length in time for work the next day. I knew he would be a d-bag.

I can tolerate bad hair. I can tolerate the fact that he was from Boston. I can tolerate one word answers to my questions. Actually that was fine with me because I got to chat up his girlfriend a bit while he talked on his cell phone.

But, we were heading up the hill on 15th Street to the White House and then he dropped the d-bag bomb on me: "You wanna switch places?"

Yeah, thanks a lot asshole. When I'm chugging up a big hill that is the most irritating thing he can say. Most people are courteous enough to shut up when I am going uphill. I was polite. I said "No," but there are really only two right ways to answer that. One would be "I don't think you can handle it, chief." That's good because it would be emasculating for a guy to be called out by a pedicabbie in front of his girlfriend. The other is to play it sarcastically: "Yeah good idea. You peddle my fat ass around and I'll sit back there and talk to your girl."

Anyway, I was calm about it. At the end of the ride they asked how much it would be. I told them that the average tip I got for that ride was about $20. I looked back and watched the hot girl take $17 out of her purse, and hand it to the d-bag. The d-bag took $5 and put it in his pocket and handed me $12. I couldn't fucking believe it. I drove off in disgust and noticed that the d-bag had left his empty bottle of Lemon flavored Nestea in the back seat. First, I can't believe he drinks that shit, and second, I can't believe he left it there. I gave the bottle to a homeless guy I saw digging for bottles in the garbage on Pennsylvania Avenue and spent the next 10 minutes plotting how I would call this guy out on the blog.

For those of you keeping score at home, the final count was:
Hot Girl: -$17
Sam: +$12
D-Bag: +$5
Homeless Guy: +$.05

What a douchebag.

Asian Tourist Photographers

2009-05-13T18:43:00.000-07:00

Why are a disproportionate number of the people taking our picture from Asia? Pedicabs are from Asia. When I was in Asia I didn't run around taking pictures of people driving Ford cars. WTF?

Got a Little Poke

2009-05-13T18:39:00.000-07:00

I got poked by a girl. A group of high school seniors walked by a bunch of us pedicabbers outside the Museum of Natural History. A cute girl in the group (fuck you, the age of consent in DC is 16) poked me in the back and ran off with some of her friends. Some of them stopped to talk to us. Apparently someone dared her to rub my back but she only managed a poke. It was a slow day - it would have been nice if someone dared her to pay for a ride.

Homage to a Drunk Guy

2009-05-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Brian for reminding me of this.

A few weekends ago I worked a double with Brian and Madelyn. While we were waiting for rides on U Street we saw the definition of tenacity manifested in a drunk guy. We were shooting the shit and heard a commotion behind us coming from Ben's Chili Bowl. We turned around to see a drunk guy getting thrown out the door on his ass. He had an "escort" of two or three Ben's Chili Bowl employees. He tried to go back in, and they kept throwing him out. It went on like that for a few minutes until they forced him to move on down the street.

Sure enough, about 10 minutes later, he reappeared and walked right back into the restaurant. A few minutes later they threw him out on his ass again. Again, they forced him down the street and stood guard outside the restaurant for a while. But, a few minutes after they had gone back inside the same drunk guy walked right back into the restaurant.

Pretty soon they threw him back out and 'escorted" him into the alley next to the restaurant. We couldn't see what was happening between the drunk guy and the Ben's Chili Bowl guys, and we chose to leave at that point and head over to the gay sports bar. We assume they were having a calm rational discussion about proper restaurant decorum.

The Toothless Black Lady

2009-05-13T18:18:00.000-07:00

I had just left the shop to start my shift and was cruising down 9th Street. I stopped at a red light next to a bus, and a 50-something-year-old black lady, clearly batshit crazy, wandered out into the middle of the street. The lady was wearing a bright pink jacket and only had two teeth, neither of which was in front. She saw me on the bright green bike and it was like a moth to a flame.

"Caan aah haaas a riiiiiiide on yo veeehicle?"

"What?" (I don't speak old drug addict.)

"CAAN AAH HAAAS A RIIIIIIIIDE ON YO VEEEHICLE?!?!"

"Oh... um... no."

Then she mumbled something and took a few steps toward me. I thought she was going to do something crazy, and I was right. She started caressing my left arm. It shocked the hell out of me - I didn't know what to do. I looked over my shoulder at the bus driver and he was laughing his ass off. Eventually she wandered back onto the sidewalk and I was on my way. Unfortunately I couldn't wash my arm until later.

Bug Splat

2009-05-11T10:07:00.000-07:00

I don't move very fast on this thing. So, what kind of worthless fucking insect winds up as a smear on my sunglasses? I am not a sports car doing 90.

Gross. If bugs won't get out of my way, I resolve not to ride with my mouth open anymore.

I Have a List...

2009-05-11T09:54:00.000-07:00

I have been neglectful, but just beause I haven't written anything in the last few days that doesn't mean there is nothing to add. I keep a list on my iPhone of posts I need to write. As of now, the list reads:

-Ben's Chili Bowl Drunk Guy
-Stupid Questions/Comments
-Stealing Boyfriend
-Toothless Molesting Black Lady

Life is never dull, I just don't always have time to write about it :)

Recipes to Get You Laid

2009-05-09T07:23:00.000-07:00

For some reason, this feels like an appropriate forum to share this link.

It's Cooktobang.com: Recipes to Get You Laid. From the website: "Anyone can cook an amazing meal and bring out their date’s inner-slut. The only way for the human race to continue is to EAT and FUCK. So do your part. Learn how to wine, dine and 69 your dream date with minimal harm to your credit card or self esteem."

Recipes include:

-Just the Stuffed Mushroom Tip
-Twice Banged Potatoes
-Fondle My Sausage and Pinch My Peppers

Actually, none of these recipes looks particularly good. And the chef seems to use Corn Flakes in way too many things. But, hats off to a good concept.

Great Day

2009-05-09T06:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was an awesome day pedicabbing. I didn't make a ton of money, but I had a great time. There are some days (like today, so far) when I have a bit of a motivational crisis. I don't really want to get out of bed, I feel really lazy, etc. Yeah I went out and drank last night so maybe that is a part of it...

I didn't work Thursday, so yesterday I was rearing to go. The sun was shining, the girls were out en masse, and the passengers were of a normal weight... what more can I ask for? It felt more like hanging out and riding a bike than actual work. And I think that my mood rubbed off on passengers. All of them loved the ride and two groups loved it so much they gave me all their cash, and said they'd give me more if they had it. And, since I was in such a great mood, I didn't act like an asshole and offer to take them to an ATM.

That's not to say I didn't make fun of people at all (see post below). And there were the Canadians I mocked for being, well, Canadian... (it was in jest, they loved me). The Canadians had the last laugh when they paid me in quarters. Yeah quarters are money too, but class it up Canada.

Question of the Day

2009-05-08T16:27:00.000-07:00

Guy from Tennessee: Do y'all have any hotels that are actually within the [DC] city limits?

Me: No.

The Pedi-File Photographer

2009-05-08T08:17:00.001-07:00

Madelyn (official photographer of The Pedi-File)'s website.

Drown One Twin...

2009-05-08T07:23:00.000-07:00

If you have more than one kid at a time, drown one. Otherwise they will grow up and scream and yell in the back of a pedicab, making the driver want to shoot himself. No wonder I insisted on drinking later that night.

A Special Kind of Crazy

2009-05-05T16:40:00.001-07:00

There are many kinds of crazy in the world. There are the guys that are just weird, like the dude that wanted to show me the naked pictures of his girlfriend on his cell phone. There are the crazy guys, like the guy that yells and lunges at us by Nationals Stadium. Then there are the people that are a special kind of crazy.

I'm thinking about the anti-Zionist Orthodox Jews that I saw protesting outside the AIPAC conference this morning as I was starting my shift. They had signs calling for the end of Israel and the establishment of a State of Palestine on the whole lands. I hadn't heard of those people until recently when I saw Bill Maher's movie Religulous. Bill Maher interviewed a leader of the movement that was incredibly obnoxious. Pretty funny, but seriously deranged. Anyway, it was interesting to see those guys out there.

A few weeks ago, on one of my first shifts, I saw some people that really bring new meaning to "crazy." I saw the Westboro Baptist Church members having a protest. Those are the lunatics that carry signs saying "God Hates Fags" and "Thank God For Dead Soldiers." They also protest soldiers funerals because they say the soldiers are dying in Iraq as punishment for the United States's tolerance for homosexuality. Yeah, I saw them. I had people in my pedicab otherwise I would have said or done something. I decided that if I ever see them again I am going to strip off all my clothes and dance naked with the men in the group. Just for fun.

How I Spent This Afternoon

2009-05-05T16:26:00.000-07:00

Don't I look happy? I put the canopy up as soon as the rain started (but not the full space pod that I mentioned yesterday). I just sat under there for over an hour so I wouldn't get wet. A couple of people asked about rides, but in that rain I told them that right now they couldn't afford me.

P.S. The photo was taken by Madelyn (who henceforth shall be the official Pedi File photographer... heh heh...)

It's raining again

2009-05-05T13:16:00.000-07:00

But this time I am on the bike. F my life...

I will try not to make this a blog about Washington, DC weather patterns

Another rainy day

2009-05-04T09:38:00.000-07:00

Yup, so it's raining, as it will be all week. I seriously considered working through it, but I'm not crazy. I have enough to worry about health-wise in an all cash business (what percentage of Americans would you say wash their hands in between using the bathroom and handling money...), do I really need to worry about catching a cold as well? I don't think so.

I actually went to the shop before I made my decision. Yesterday it was raining, too, but it couldn't have been too bad a night judging by the used condom right outside the door. Only one other person was working today - the manager. At least I wouldn't be working alone, right? But consider how many people are going to be walking around on the mall today: it's a Monday and it's raining. We have canopies on the bikes, and for days like today we have extra attachments that make the backseat into a bubble. It looked rather claustrophobic back there. It made me think of my late grandfather - he was a very gentle guy, but he'd have slapped me if I ever offered him a ride in that.

It was a close call, but I think I'll stay in and watch Bridget Jones's Diary on Lifetime. That seems like more fun.

Fun with Swine Flu

2009-05-03T20:51:00.000-07:00

There's a nice article up from the NY Times showing how researchers are modeling the Swine Flu epidemic by watching how dollar bills change hands. Makes me glad to be in an all cash business...

Got me some action!

2009-05-03T13:59:00.000-07:00

Not really. A drunk chick grabbed my ass last night outside DC9 on U Street. Apparently my ass isn't as nice as Madelyn's (another pedicabbie). Madelyn was wearing spandex, though... Not a fair fight.

Brian's Cock (Dear FBI... Brian is like 40)

2009-05-03T13:43:00.000-07:00

This is my coworker Brian's tattoo. I asked him what it was: "It's the cock that hangs below my knee."

Take note, Mom and Dad. It looks like my sense of humor wont be maturing anytime soon.

Danny also has a good tattoo like that. He has a pair of lady's legs on his thigh so that when women complement his legs he can show them the tattoo. What should I get tattooed on me?

The Suspension

2009-05-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

Hoo boy... This is a long story...

I got suspended from pedicabbing, can you believe it? I graduated from a top 10 school with a degree in economics, I am a military officer, and I am the “bad boy” among professional pedicabbers. Mom and dad, I hope you’re proud.

I think the last time I got suspended from anything it was a half-day in-school suspension in 8th grade because I got caught taking someone else’s prescription antibiotic when my nipple piercing got slightly infected. (On second thought, maybe it’s not so surprising that I grew up to be the bad boy pedicabber.)

It was a Thursday night and I was on the tail end of a double shift. I spent all day, 12-6, working on the National Mall and doing pretty well for myself. In the evening I shifted down towards the waterfront to work the Nationals game. Nats games are always fun. You work hard before the game (mostly you have to work hard convincing people to get in these ridiculous pedicab contraptions.) Then we all killed time eating fries and peanuts at Five Guys until about the 5th inning, then we headed back to the stadium to hustle more rides.

At about 10pm I’d had about as much as I could take. I was tired, sore, and grumpy. And I had a few hundred bucks in my pocket so I was eager to cash out and spend the rest of the evening counting my wad of cash a few dozen times. I was about to head back to the shop when a couple of guys that looked about my age came over.

“Hey man, how much for a ride to Georgetown.”

“Shit,” I said. “I am really fucking tired. I’ll take you there, but it’s really far and it wont make me happy. But I’ll do it. 60 bucks.” I don’t think I am supposed to swear at customers but I do it a lot when I’m tired. Not around kids, mind you. Usually at drunk adults when I can get away with it.

“We don’t have 60 bucks. Where would you take us for 20?”

I thought about this for a minute. “Ummm, how about the L’Enfant Plaza metro stop?” I am very clever. Aside from it being an eminently reasonable price for that ride (I have gotten $40 for the same ride before) it also works out extremely well for me. I know the area quite well since my apartment is just a few blocks from that metro stop, and it is on the way back to the pedicab garage.

“Yeah, okay,” the two said. They had the good natured attitude that comes with a long night of drinking at a baseball game. They got into the cab, and since one was wearing an Oakland As hat I asked if he was from California.

“Naw, I’m from New York,” he answered as we headed out through the thinning crowd.

“No kidding,” I said. I told him I was from Brooklyn, and it turns out he grew up in Bay Ridge. They were students at Georgetown so we talked about that, as well as pedicabbing in DC, the fact that I was also in the Army, and being from New York.

The ride lasted about 15 minutes. We rounded the corner onto 7th Street and were, coincidentally, right in front of my apartment building, when I suddenly felt the pedicab get a lot lighter. I looked back in time to see the second of them jump out of the moving pedicab and start springing down the block in the opposite direction.

Technically, company policy is that we work for tips only. In practice, most driver state suggested tips before their passengers get in. At the end of a ride if the person wants to pay us nothing, technically they are allowed to do so. Company policy, technically, is that drivers are not supposed to hop out of the pedicab and chase their customers down the street. Oops.

Maybe I got a little excited. They ran down the street so I pulled the bike over, hopped off, and ran after them. The first one that I caught up to was a couple inches taller than me but pretty scrawny. I tackled him around the waist onto the grass outside my apartment building. I couldn’t believe it, but when I took him down he looked at me with this pissed off look on his face. Like I was the asshole…

We struggled on the ground for a few minutes as he tried to get away from me, but I was a lot stronger than him. Fortunately his friend kept running so it was a one-on-one fight. I still remembered some of the judo that I took when I was younger so I put him in a hold to keep him still.

“Dude, why did you jump out? We were almost there. You owe me 20 bucks.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you have to pay me or I am going to call the cops.”

“Ha ha. Go ahead.”

What? Was he daring me to call the cops after he basically tried to steal from me?

“Okay man, I’m calling them,” I said. I let him out of the hold so I could reach into my pocket for my cell phone. Right when I got the phone out of my pocket the kid punched me in the face above my right eye.

I subdue him, then pick my phone back up and call 911. There was a weird prerecorded message before the operator picked up, so the kid started laughing and telling me he didn’t believe I was actually calling the cops. Well, I was. And, since we were in front of my apartment building I knew exactly where to tell them to go.

Next, because I was trying to do everything by the book, I called my pedicab manager, Danny. I told him over the phone what happened and he told me he would come to me ASAP. He sounded less than thrilled. Lastly, I called my roommate. My bike was down the street and I was worried about it getting stolen so I had Stephen come downstairs to watch it for me while I sat on the kid.

Two police cars drove up after several minutes and they put the kid in handcuffs. They separated us and got each of our stories separately. When one person is a military officer that works as a pedicabbie to pay the bills and the other is a drunk Georgetown student, guess who the cops automatically believe?

After a few minutes the officer who was talking to the kid came over and said that the kid only had 10 dollars on him, but that if the cops drove him to an ATM he would be willing to take out 20 and pay me what he owed. I thought about this for a minute because it wasn’t a terribly serious crime and I felt bad about making the police do all the paperwork that would go along with arresting him.

“Well, I really hate to make it a bigger deal than it needs to be. But after I jumped on him I did give him the chance to pay me before I called the police. Instead of paying me he punched me in the face. I feel like he already made his choice, so I am not inclined to give him a do-over now that his ass is on the line. Honestly, I would prefer it if you arrested him.”

The police were very cool and understood completely. They told me they were actually a little relieved that I chose to press charges because they often get a lot of petty crime from students when the weather starts to get nice. They felt that sending a message early on in the season would go a long way towards dissuading other students from acting the same way.

They put the kid in the police car, then I spent the next 10 minutes shooting the shit with them. They were funny guys. They told me that when they first questioned the kid about what happened, he told them that for no reason I threw him out of the pedicab and started kicking his ass. The officer told me he laughed in the kid’s face and told him to try again.

I thought it was a great story. The pedicab company was slightly less amused and they suspended me for a week so that other drivers don’t follow my lead. I don’t blame them - they have a business to run and can’t afford to have pedicabs seen as a volatile mode of transportation. In their position I would have suspended me, too. But it still sucked. Anyway, I am the badass pedicabbie. Other drivers use me as a warning to their passengers. Don’t skip out on the bill, or we’ll set Sam on you.

That was actually my first fight. But hey, it's fun to talk about it.

Babe Lincoln

2009-05-03T13:22:00.001-07:00

It was the day after Easter - I believe it was my second day on the job. Maybe my third. Who knows? Anyway, we had a special assignment that day: pick up the Washington Nationals’ mascots from the White House Easter Egg Roll event and take them to the Nationals’ stadium.

We pulled up to the agreed meeting area right on time around 10am at 15th and Pennsylvania Ave. There were tons of kids milling around with their parents. And, naturally, as soon as we pulled up a dozen asian tourists came over to snap pictures. For a second I started wondering how we would know who the mascots were. In hindsight that was stupid, but I had no idea what the Nationals would have as a mascot. What does a “National” look like, anyway? I was picturing an overweight guy with a combover underneath a John Deere hat, an American flag t-shirt tucked into denim shorts, and Teva sandals with black socks.

Well, I got my answer soon enough. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abe Lincoln, and Theodore Roosevelt. The costumes were pretty creepy, though. They reminded me of the scene in Across the Universe when they stumble upon Mr. Kite and the Blue Meanies. Abe Lincoln got into my cab and we all drove away. I like to make conversation with the people I drive so I broke the ice by asking if the costume weighed a lot. I was really intrigued when I found out that Abe was played by a girl. I didn’t know there were girl mascots in pro sports. I don’t know why there wouldn’t be, I guess I never really gave it any thought.

So I talked to Abe the whole way down to the stadium and she turned out to be pretty awesome. For some reason, though, I kept looking back to make eye contact. I do it with all my customers, but most of my customers aren’t wearing huge novelty heads. I started to wonder, though, if I should ask for her number. I hadn’t asked anyone out since my (ex) girlfriend broke up with me about a week before. I chickened out at the last minute, but then I immediately regretted it. When I got home later I remembered a story Danny (our manager) told us about finding a Craigslist missed connection about him. I decided to write a missed connection. I figured that in the likely event that I never got in contact with Abe, at least if I made it funny, I could make Best of Craigslist.

Here is the original post:

Pedicab Driver Seeks Abe Lincoln - m4w - 22 (DC) 
Reply to: pers-ftz39-1121283556@craigslist.org Date: 2009-04-13, 11:17PM EDT  

I picked you up today at the White House. You were the Abe Lincoln mascot for the Nationals heading back to the stadium after the Easter Egg Roll, I was a devilishly handsome pedicab driver. I asked if the outfit weighed a lot, and I almost crashed into Thomas Jefferson when you replied in a sexy girl-voice. We talked about biking in DC, apartment and job hunting, and my admiration for your Gettysburg Address. I kept peering back as we rode to try and make eye contact, but your enormous mascot head was in the way. When I dropped you off I didn’t ask for your phone number, because I evidently have no testicles.  

If you get this shoot me an email. We can go out for coffee, a romantic bike ride, and celebrate your 200th birthday.  

Love,
 The Pedicabbie

--------------

Oddly enough, a few days later I got an email from Abe! She told me that she thought the ad was hilarious and sweet, and that she would love to meet me sometime. We met up at a Nats game briefly, and then a week or two later for a few beers. We aren't going to make it romantic, but she is very cool and it never hurts to have a new friend in DC.

And it's certainly a pretty funny story (it's one from my personal life that is okay to tell my parents!).

About the Blog

2009-05-03T13:19:00.001-07:00

Warning: To actual paedophiles and to the FBI - This blog is about riding a bike taxi in Washington, DC. Period. The title of the blog is a play on words.