When Driving While Drinking Saved Me From An Accident

Confessions of a New York City taxi driver

Photo by Sidral Mundet on Unsplash

I have a confession to make now that my final cab-driving shift is 27 years behind me. I drank alcohol for the last three hours of my twelve-hour shifts not once — but literally hundreds — or even thousands — of times. Here was the routine:

My night shift ran from roughly 5 PM to 5 AM. I’d pay the boss his lease fee (between $80 and $95 depending on the night), gas up for about $20, and hit the road at minus $100 net (or so) to begin the shift.

All the money I took in until 5 AM was mine. It was all cash back then so we got our pay in real time. On a decent night, I’d have the nut back by 9 PM. On a good night by 8. Between midnight and 1 AM, I’d generally hit the $100 profit mark (depending on how brisk business was).

Once having reached the $100 mark, I’d shift (pun intended) into a different mode. As soon as nobody was in the back seat, I’d head toward my apartment wherever I was. If nobody flagged me on the way, I’d park, duck upstairs, and grab some liquor (usually beer), pour it into a 16 ounce Coca Cola bottle, and stash three more in my bag for the rest of the shift. Four drinks was my self-imposed limit while driving.

The price of gas was $1 per gallon back then so to stay out only cost $2 per hour. The lease was paid for so pretty much, all the money I took in from fares (minus that $2 per hour) was mine.

No longer would I rip, run, and drive like Mario Andretti. Alternatively, I’d ride the back of the green light series at a leisurely pace while the other guys raced ahead. Or I’d park in front of a bar and simply wait for a fare to emerge.

The thing that the authorities and law enforcement don’t tell you is that responsible people understand that their reflexes will slow down while drinking and thus, they’ll know to drive accordingly.

I was one of those drivers. And I’m here to tell you that on two remarkable occasions, I avoided accidents simply because I was drinking.

The first near miss came courtesy of a New York City policeman who for reasons only he could explain, ran a light at a high speed without sounding his siren or flashing his lights.

Because I was moving slowly, I managed to slam on the brakes and avoid hitting him. Of course, my brew went flying forward and spilled all over the floor. Man, was I mad. I began to chase him down just for a second until I realized that might not be the best move — even if I was stone cold sober.

So I abandoned the chase and rather, thanked myself for avoiding the moron. It only cost me half a beer. Had the accident happened, you know a cop would have turned that into me being a drunk driver who caused the crash rather than take responsibility for what was clearly his fault.

The second occasion happened at 5 AM on a Saturday night. I was rolling up 10th Avenue just a block behind the light series when a late night driver zipped across 39th Street going the wrong way (I guess he had just come out of the Lincoln Tunnel and was confused) at exactly the wrong time and caused a three car crash which took place just 100 feet in front of me.

Carefully, I drove around the detritus in the street (bumper pieces, glass, and such) and continued on my way. Had I not been drinking, that would have been a four car crash. I’d have been the fourth.

I’m certainly not advocating drunk-driving as a safe way to operate a motor vehicle. This is simply anecdotal feedback on what the entire world views as a criminal act.

In all that time and on all those occasions, I never once had an accident or was caught for DUI by a cop. And indeed, drinking saved me from at least two crashes.

Alas, I am a responsible drinker. But I recognize that among consumers of alcohol, I’m in the minority when it comes to those who drive under the influence.