We've had a couple of really good looking drivers over the years, Raven was one of them. He was in his 20's. His classic comment was, "Cabdriving isn't a job, it's a lifestyle."
The 'real job' he finally got was working for a telecom provider. He'd come back and drive 4 or 5 sifts a year, and I'd always ask him if he was slumming. There is/was a little of me in him, he's part of the family, he likes coming home to see the family just like any normal person would. Normal? Did I say normal? A cab driver? He was close to normal.
The local freebie weekly paper with all the personal ads in it often uses a highlight personal as an advertising tool. See this highly cool personal ad, yours could be just as cool, buy yourself a personal ad, you'll love it, right? One week, there's this bad quality photo of this guy in a leather/lace outfit, whip in hand, with the caption, "I just want somebody to call me sir." I looked at that and said to myself, that's Raven. I showed it to the folks in the office at the cab company, and they all looked at it and said, "It kind of looks like him, but it isn't him. It's definitely not Raven."
There was no question in my mind, but Raven was well liked, nobody wanted it to be Raven. I guess my problem was, I didn't care if Raven was like that, aside from it being amusing. One of the MT drivers I like is into Goth, makes no secret of it, wears black nail polish, and so on, none of us care, he's a good guy. Those black short pants with the little suspenders and the studs, and the cute leather cops hat, it's ok to wear that stuff, and it's ok to snicker, it's a free country.
At about this time, I was having issues with the last roommate I will ever have. Said roommate was also into the Goth nonsense. Unfortunately, I've been forced to conclude that most of the people who are into this nonsense are people you do not want to have much to do with, this roommate and friends were, as my father would have described them, leaches on society. In an effort to help me out, a friend on the Internet from Wilmington, Del. sent me a couple of photos of this roommate on the dance floor, shaking his bootie on leather and lace night at a place on Commercial. Guess who was right behind him, shaking his whip, and wearing his outfit. Raven. They were really good quality photos, and there was no question about who it was. I printed the 2 photos, and took them over to the office. Well, do you believe me now?
Raven only ever came back for one more shift. Kind of reminds me of a recent episode of the Soprano's. It's a shame when you lose family members. It's nice to know that in our family, they only move away, most of them are still around out there, somewhere.