It was my third New Year's behind the wheel as a cab driver, and the characters kept on coming. After four hours of sleep, here I am to give you a smattering of the night's rides. It's all in pieces, but if you think about it, that's all a puzzle is anyway:

My first two attempts at 5 p.m. were no-shows. A Dollar Tree Store & an Allsup's Convenient Store. We call it cleaning up the board. I remind myself to stay patient. It's a 12-hour shift.

I get my first two rides at Smith's at Tramway & Central. Both had been waiting, and even though I accommodated both within 10 minutes, the one that waited longer was initially hurt. Rejection is a bitch, but we all go through it. Get used to it, folks. It will happen to you again.

I had no rides from 6 p.m. to 7 p.m. The town was quiet, and I was lonely.

My first quality ride came from a mother/daughter combo going from Lead to Juan Tabo. The Mom was lit and called me Russell Crowe (there's a similarity when I have a beard). While on I-40, the Mom gave me a back rub from the back seat while the daughter quizzed me on my favorite Death Metal Band. I went with Sepultura, which was met with great approval. $30 for the ride, paid by the guy they were going to see. He said I could have twenty more dollars if I took the daughter with me. I passed.

Six kids from Santa Fe at the Motel 6-University going to OPM Downtown. The legal limit for passengers in a cab is four, but if you can cram it in, I'll take it. My record is still 7 drunk Indians in broad daylight.

I pick up my brother to take him to a house party. It's a 10 buck ride, and he hems and haws about not being able to make change and how I would be taking half his cash for the night. I don't charge him and shake my head in disappointment. Everyone wants a free-bee. Oh well, he is kin and all.

There was the couple at UNM-H (the public hospital). I take them to Rio Bravo & Prince where the girl claims the dispatch quoted her 12 to 15 dollars when the ride was twenty bucks. She said that's all she had. No one has only twelve to fifteen dollars on them. You can have only twelve or only fifteen dollars, but not only both. The boyfriend went into the house and got a twenty for me. Good man. Too bad for him that he had to take the cheapskate girl with him.

Family members on Cardenas SE going to Grand Central Station (four bars-in-one or The Mall Bar). One girl forgot her ID and fretted whether she should actually go out. Word to the Lively. Always do something active on New Year's. Don't stay at home and watch balls drop. That's for pre-teen boys to do by themselves. New Year's is a social-logic experience. Go see how you size up against the rest of society.

Happy New Year! It's about time. 2005, get behind me! 2006, rise up and holler! I'm at 628 Monroe, toasting the New Year's with 40-somethings. They say I'm the coolest cabbie in the world (this is true). The host and her friend say I'm hot, but I'm a Cancer, and they conclude it will never work between us. Never let Astrology rule your life. I slurp a tiny bit of cheap sparkling wine. My only booze of the night. I have 364 other nights to get lit. Tonight is Cabbie Christmas.

House parties, house parties, house parties! The smell of skank weed and bon fires fill the air. Every time I entered one, the host came right up to me and offered me booze & smoke. They all wanted me to stay, but I'm just a ride for some lucky party goer with cash.

Grab some rich swingers at 1100 Marquette. They pile five in the cab, and I take them to the Country Club area of downtown while the men talk of boobs and golf, and the women speak of massages by beefy men. It's a fifteen dollar ride, and they give me forty because both guys want to pay for the ride. The rich are silly, but their money smells so nice.

Oh yeah, everybody stinks on New Year's. Dancing, boozing, smoking, sweating, slurring. You get used to the funky smells, but I just thought I should mention it.

There was the older Indian and two gay Hispanic guys I made share a cab because they were going the same direction. The Indian talked about the Indian ways while the gay boys tried to decide whether they had fun or not. The gay boys had next to no money, but the Indian covered them. I'll take an old Indian over fun boys any day.

Then there's the two boys and two girls I picked up at Fantasy World (strip club). One of the girls got on stage and made $25. It was starting to sink into all of them what had just occurred, and after initial chatter, they became eerily quiet. Realization is a motherfucker, kiddos. Get used to it.

The worst couple ever happened to be at the Hyatt. The guy was drunk and incoherent, and the girl screamed at him any chance she could. Shut the fuck up. No, you shut the fuck up. Can I have a piece of gum? I know you have a piece of gum! WHY WON'T YOU GIVE ME A PIECE OF GUM! Give me money for the cab ride. Fuck you. Give me some money for the nice cab man. FUCK YOU! GIVE ME SOME MONEY!!! Bitch, you took my money! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH!!! Yes, yes, yes. We hate you both, and you deserve to live the rest of your nights together.

Three post teens are at the Circle K and have to go to the far West Side. They have money, and we're off. They notice a cell phone in the back seat. Who knows who's it is? It's Lost & Found's phone now. One of the girls had an accident, so she couldn't dance. Woof, that's rough. They stay silent, so I mention the couple from hell I just dropped off. They giggle. The guy gets dropped off first, and then the two girls make fun of the way he danced. I always knew girls did that, but I never had proof until that moment. As the girls got out, they noticed the guy left his cell phone in the cab. Those girls sure can find phones in a hurry.

I cruise back to town, and it's about 4:30 a.m. That's enough for me. I gas up and go to The Yard. Five buck tips for the mechanic, cashier and phone operators (I usually tip two bucks), and pay the lease for the night. I'm home before 5 a.m. Count up the cash, and I've got $309 for the night. Good enough for me.

That wasn't all the rides of the night, but you get the idea. It's 2006, and I've just begun to get my kicks.

Chris Jungle will return to his day time cab duties on Tuesday.