In a new book, a veteran Tokyo cabbie shares his war stories—and insider tips for passengers

By Masayoshi Ise. Translated by Hiroko Fukazawa

Takushi Uramonogatari, by Masayoshi Ise (Saizusha, 2008, 228 pp, ¥1,200)

The cab as love hotel
Most of the time, couples are able to hold it in until they get to their destination. But in reality, love hotels fill up on weekends, so it’s common for couples to “do it” in the taxi. The driver’s blind spot is the seat behind him, so that’s where they start. These couples seem to think that the driver is as nonexistent as air. For some reason, I more frequently see women going down on the man than I see the man and the woman kissing each other. And I’m not sure if women have become stronger in this day and age, but it’s mostly the women who start going down on the man, rather than the man trying to convince the female.
If a couple says “Sorry” as they pay their fare and leave the cab, that’s a dangerous sign because there’s a high possibility that they’ve left a little “souvenir” in the backseat. There is nothing as pathetic as having to clean that up.

“Stop by at the conbini, please”
So one day, a 20-year-old guy asks me to stop at a nearby Lawson when we’re about ¥5,000 into his ride. He leaves his bag in the car and is gone for five minutes, then ten. Just as I start to get suspicious, he comes back and says the ATM was out of order and, apologizing for the wait, hands me an energy drink. I thought, “What a nice guy!” With that, we start up a conversation, and he tells me how his bag
is a limited-edition release that cost him over ¥100,000.
As we get closer to his destination, he asks to stop at another conbini, and he leaves his bag in the car again. I wait for ten minutes, then 15. No sign of him. The meter has gone up to ¥11,900. Getting worried, I go out and search the conbini. There’s no trace of him—
he had run off. Of course, I had to pay the fare myself, but I decided it wasn’t all that bad because I could put the man’s bag up for sale on an internet auction as soon as I got home.
Later, just as I was about to leave the locker room for the day,
I saw my co-worker with the same bag.
“Wasn’t that expensive?” I asked.
“No way,” he replied. “It’s from the ¥100 shop. Oh, look you have one, too. Isn’t it useful?”

The cats in the bag
One time I was drinking with a 32-year-old veteran taxi driver, and he told me this story:
Most of the time when customers have luggage or suitcases with them, it’s a “lucky shot”—a ride to the airport, which is usually a nice fare. So five years ago, this guy saw a man of about 50 on the side of the street with both a shoulder bag and a large travel bag. Thinking he had found a lucky shot, the driver happily stopped. He offered to put the man’s luggage in the back, but the customer said he’d do it by himself. The destination wasn’t the airport, but Tokyo station, which the driver thought was far enough. When they arrived, the man asked him to wait for a minute, but after 20 minutes he didn’t come back. The driver looked around, but the man had run off—yet his bags were still in the taxi.
So I asked the driver, “You opened the bag, right? What was in it?”
“Dead bodies—five of them,” he answered. “Yup, five severed cat heads.”
I asked if he called the police.
“Police? No, what can they do? I dropped them off at the dump on my way home…”

The diaper issue
I was driving a woman on a long ¥10,000 ride, part of which was on a crowded highway. I had to go to the bathroom so bad that I had sweat dripping down my forehead. I knew I couldn’t hold it anymore and something needed to be done.

I checked on the young woman in the back and, confirming that she was asleep (thank goodness!), I took out a plastic bag that I always have at hand for drunk customers and slowly unzipped my pants. Phew. Later during the ride, I opened the door a crack to drop the bag on the street. When I looked in the rearview mirror, the woman was still sleeping—mission accomplished!

Actually, not. As the lady was getting out, she smiled and said, “Life’s pretty difficult for drivers, isn’t it?”

After that I went to buy diapers at the supermarket, where I ran into
a co-worker who told me, “Once you start using them, you get hooked. Try it out!” Since that day, though, I have not had occasion to use them.
I don’t want to start relying on diapers…

 
Check out the meter. You’ll see three lines which get smaller as time passes. Each line represents 30 meters; when there is only one line left, it means that in 30 meters, ¥90 more will be added to the fare when the cab stops. If you understand this, you won’t be surprised about the sudden fare jump before you reach your destination.

Realize that the fare is partially calculated by time, not just distance. So if the driver pushes the jissha (start button) before you’ve finished giving the destination, you have the right to tell the guy off.

On the other hand, the kosoku (highway button) must be pushed when riding on highways. Due to traffic and other delays that occur on freeways, this button measures the fee by distance, not time. So if that button is not pushed when you are
on the highway, you’re being scammed.

Check out Masayoshi Ise’s blog at http://ise-masayoshi.cocolog-nifty.com/blog