Identical twin nigger pimps?

Nobody could make this shit up and, if I haven’t seen it or done it, it’s probably never happened.  Driving a cab, in Lake Tahoe, wasn’t just a job, it was an adventure.  Taking dudes to the legal Nevada whore houses, people doing Peruvian Marching Powder in the back seat, driving in a white-out, almost running into a 150 pound mountain lion, there was never a dull moment.  There was a section, on the California side, right on the state line, we called the “Complex,” where over 100 motels were packed into about one square mile.  I took a call, one night, to a street address in the Complex.  Upon arriving, I saw that it was a duplex with, of course, two separate dwelling units, A and B.  I called my dispatcher and asked him which unit called.  He said he didn’t know which one, and to knock on one of the doors.  I walked onto the very large porch, which covered the whole front of the building, and knocked on door number A.  The door opened, and an early twenty-something, small black man, dressed in a gold lame’ pimp suit, opened the door.  He was bling city, with ear-rings, gold bracelets, necklaces, rings, and what-not.  I said, “Taxi,” and he said, “They’re next door.”  I thanked him and knocked on door number B.  That door was opened by what I thought was the same dude, who was wearing all the same gear.  I didn’t say a word, just looked at him, as he looked at me.  Finally, I said, “Taxi?”, and he said, “They’ll be right out.”  I thought the dude was mental, and backed up several steps, to wait for “they” to come out.  I was 10 or 12 feet from the open door, in which the guy was standing.  I glanced to the left, and door A was still open, with the first of the identical twin, identically dressed twin nigger pimps, still standing there.  Door B had #2 pimp standing in the open doorway, as well.  Identical twin pimps, in matching gold lame’ pimp suits, in fucking stereo.

Two spectacularly beautiful hookers, one white and one black, came out, and I took them to one of the casinos.  Both were petite and very good looking.  The fare was $1.95 and the cunts gave me a nickel tip.  I had both of them, together, in my cab, a few more times, in the next week, including to and from a supermarket, for food, as the duplex had kitchens, I guess.  The fare to the store was also $1.95 with that ginormous nickel tip.  After a week, the blonde bailed and I never saw her again.

About a week after the white girl left, there was a one-column-inch blurb, in the local paper, about a hooker doing “trick-rolls” on high-rollers, in one of the (un-named) casinos.  No description, NOTHING.  There were one or two more sketchy notes, in the days that followed, then they finally included a description, “Young, very good looking, black chick.”  BINGO.  I called the South Lake Tahoe PD and asked to speak to the Watch Commander.  A Sergeant came on and I asked him if he had read that day’s paper.  He said he hadn’t but that there was one in the station, and told me to hang on.  He came back and I told him to turn to page 3, at the bottom of the page.  He read about the chloral hydrate, to knock out the mark, so she could relieve him of cash, chips, and gold Rolex watch.  I told the Sergeant the exact address where the babe could be found, and about the identical twin pimps, and he was suitably impressed:  “Man, I’ve never even HEARD of anything like that.  I’d sure like to see THAT [the pimps].”  About two hour later, the Sergeant and about 20 other cops, from two states and several different agencies, rolled up on the duplex, with NO WARRANT (cops are stupid).  They contacted the pimps, who claimed that the broad wasn’t there and they didn’t even know “da bitch.”  The cops all left, but returned the following morning, WITH A WARRANT.  This time there were like 20 CARS, with 40 cops, parked on lawns and in the middle of the street.  They all dicked around for about 20 minutes, before they knocked on the door.  SURPRISE, they had crawled out a rear window (nobody was watching the back), climbed a fence with their baggage, and had the clerk at the motel (which owned the duplex) call a taxi-cab for them.  Dumb-assed cops.  The cops asked the clerk if he knew where they were going.  RENO AIRPORT.

A single NHP Trooper pulled over the cab, on Highway 50, at Spooner Summit, and proned the three knee-grows out, on the pavement, for 20 minutes, at the point of a shotgun, until backup arrived.  By this time, they knew who all three of them were, including the girl.  It turns out that she was an escape artist, having busted out of TWO jails.  It was decided to book the pimps in Carson City but, because the girl was an escape risk, she was transported to Reno, to be booked into the Washoe County Jail, which was thought to be more secure than the women’s facility in Carson.  SHE BUSTED THE FUCK OUT OF JAIL IN RENO.  About two years later, in the L.A. Times, there was a short article about that same girl, name (which I then knew) the same, and about how she had busted out of a FOURTH jail, in Texas.

I was supposed to get a commendation from the Chief of Police, but never got it.  One cop told me he had seen MY commendation, on the Chief’s desk, along with several others, but the asshole never signed it.

I’ve got about 10,000 of these stories, all true, and I don’t even embellish them.  Tune in next week; same Bat Channel, same Bat Time.

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