6 to 6: The Rest of It

It’s a hot mid-afternoon and I stop my cab at Fry’s to buy a chocolate bar for my wife. She always asks me to buy her a chocolate bar and I usually…


6 to 6: Arivaca

Debora Hunter, 389 W. Rillito Drive, is seven feet tall; her head eclipses the sun. She doubles over to get in my cab, her face a sad skull with…


6 to 6: Somebody Say the Magic Word

I get out of the cab and step into the oven of a normal Arizona summer day. I can’t find her, I can’t find her. My passenger is supposed to be at the…


6 to 6: And Deliver Us from the Vikings, Amen

A flashlight comes on in the dark. The light defines the motions of a man’s hand as he rises to his feet. The light lands here and there on empty…


6 to 6: This Shit Kicks Viagra’s Ass

My sunflower-yellow cab stopped in front of a small trailer on a gravel road. A big old man came slowly out into the sun, his body jerking and…


6 to 6: Thinking’s Got Nothing to Do with It

It was a cookie cutter neighborhood and nobody answered the phone, so I got out of my cab and walked to the door. I rang the bell. Dogs barked…


6 to 6: The Standard

It was mid-day and hot as usual in Tucson, the sun hanging there like an angry fundamentalist. Five sorority girls left their dorm building and…


6 to 6: The Road to the Casino Del Sol

Four Buddhists, dressed in orange robes, fold themselves into my cab outside the colossal brass doors of La Paloma, a lavish resort on the north side…


6 to 6: The Double

132 West Jacinto, Apartment 6 I pull my cab up to 132 West Jacinto and park. Rosalita Morales is 23 years old. She has big, lumpy formations on her…


6 to 6: November in July

It was 11am on July 3rd., the middle of the monsoon season. I was sweating in my taxi when I was dispatched to a nightclub named November. A poor…