A Taxi Driver From El Salvador

I went out to Fly recently for a birthday party, ironically on the day I criticized the idea of bottle service. If you don’t live in DC, Fly is one of those generic new clubs that push Grey Goose and orange juice behind velvet ropes. But I have to give the owners credit: the lounge has a cool airplane theme with very attractive flight attendant wait staff. The DJ was taking the crowd through a journey of 90’s hip hop and the bathroom was stocked with thick paper towels.

It’s all nice and good until you get to the patrons: 75% guys giving way too much power to the few girls, most of them were average at best. The hottest ones were dancing on couches with their hands on the fuselage shaking their asses for the men and their fresh barber cuts in the economy section. I noticed everyone is still taking cues from US Weekly and MTV on how to dress, look, and act, and other than my wingman there was no one I wanted to talk to. There wasn’t a single girl there who was worth my opener, something that takes motivation and follow through.

motorcycle-bolivia.jpgOne woman pulled me aside and asked if I was a soccer player. I went along and we talked for a couple minutes, but even in the dim lightning I could tell she wasn’t a day younger than 35. There was nothing wrong with her, but come on. I’m in my prime I shouldn’t have to converse with that. She should just grab my hand and lead me to the bathroom and be done with it. During the day time when the advantage is out of her favor I wouldn’t even notice her existence, but here she is getting plenty of attention.

I end up in Adams Morgan for a while until I decide to have a jumbo slice instead of the usual falafel. It’s been a year… and I see why: it was shit. The cheese came from a crate rejected by Papa Johns and the sauce was a sprinkling of the pale colored juice you drain out from a cheap can of tomatoes. This is the worst pizza I’ve ever eaten in my life. Even worse than the pizza in Bolivia, a place which doesn’t have a single Italian or whoever invented pizza to pass on critical pizza-making knowledge to a generation of pizza makers.

I’m alone and two girls share a table with me, savoring every bite of the worst pizza is the world. They kept saying how good it was. One of them has a look like she’s about to puke on my face and the other has a blob of grease on her half covered breast. Grease breast chatted with me for a couple minutes and asked me how it’s possible I’m single. Because I refuse to go out with girls like you. I felt like a jerk for even thinking it.

Everyone else is shoving dough in their mouth with eyes half closed and loving every minute of it. As I step outside I’m saved from stepping on a gigantic pool of red vomit, a waste of what I’m sure was a fine pasta meal. Twenty minutes later on the subway ride back home I hear a splash and turn around to see a man slumped over three seats away vomiting all over himself. A stupid slut I picked up in a club years back did the same thing but in my car. I remembered looking back and seeing a fountain of pink vomit eject from her mouth and land on her chest and then trickle it’s way to my seat. Americans are fucking disgusting.

I had to take a cab the rest of the way home. This driver was a talker. He asked me about my night and I told him how it’s getting harder to go out. You never think at 22 or 23 you’ll get older and become that guy that rather sit at the bar on a weekday and stare at the wall. Drinking some gold cachaca in a shot glass, making my own personal music mix and maybe getting an hour or two worth of work done is starting to seem more appealing. He asked me if I was an artist.

We talked about girls and he put me on the spot. He asked me to give him one tip that would help him out. It’s been two months since he’s even talked to a girl, and he told me a typical story of a girl he liked that he bought gifts for eventually getting into a relationship with someone else. The pressure was on to help this guy out, and I thought about it for a minute before I answered.

There has to be a point where you’re talking to a girl or interacting with her and you’re about to do something or say something and think… ‘I’m going to lose her.’ But you do it anyway.

He thought about it for ten seconds and thanked me. I hoped I made a difference, but I don’t know for sure. I doubt it.

I had conversations with maybe five girls during the course of the night. But the one with the taxi driver from El Salvador was by far the most interesting and the only one that put a smile on my face after it was done. I shook his hand and wished him luck.


  1. Dick Goodnuts May 23, 2008 at 9:08 am

    Roosh – I really feel sick now… thanks!

    Dick Goodnuts’s last blog post: American Boys.

  2. Anon May 23, 2008 at 9:25 am

    I don’t know about you, but “blob of grease on her half covered breast” sounds great.

    Be a gentleman, take her home, and pre-soak the grease with jizz to help get that shit off her. What’s wrong with you? Looking for a wife? Looking for dick?

  3. Abhs May 23, 2008 at 9:27 am

    I think you either need to get out of America again or find a girl who you don’t think you’re worthy of. You sound like you miss uncertainty. Remember, you create your own reality and perception.

  4. Abhs May 23, 2008 at 9:48 am

    Ughhhh…you always complain about the SAME SHIT…why don’t you spend some money, get your wardrobe together, do whatever you have to do so that you don’t have to go to Amo and shitty clubs like fly, but can get into the more exclusive clubs that are FILLED with hot girls and minimal men

  5. todd hackett May 23, 2008 at 9:48 am

    you said it… your not 22 or 23 anymore… it’s not your scene obviously (although it fuels some good posts).
    going to these places are a choice. time to find a new venue (apart from bars/clubs as well). or dig deeper and find out where you can interact with more people like your driver

  6. Jack Goes Forth May 23, 2008 at 9:57 am

    That 22-23 comment is depressing. You’re starting to sound like some of the comment trolls on here with the whole, “I’m geting old”, “I don’t have the energy anymore” talk.

    It’s not your age, it’s DC that’s sucking the lifeblood out of you.

    Jack Goes Forth’s last blog post: Live Life Now.

  7. Urban Girl May 23, 2008 at 10:32 am

    “One woman pulled me aside and asked if I was a soccer player. I went along and we talked for a couple minutes, but even in the dim lightning I could tell she wasn’t a day younger than 35. There was nothing wrong with her, but come on. I’m in my prime I shouldn’t have to converse with that. She should just grab my hand and lead me to the bathroom and be done with it.”

    Wow. I’m sure all the ladies agree that you sound like a catch.

  8. Arjewtino May 23, 2008 at 10:55 am

    You never think it’ll happen to you.

    When you’re 24 and can stay up until 4am and still go to work the next day, you never think that’ll change.

    But it does. It always does.

    The trick is accepting your limitations and being happy within them.

    Arjewtino’s last blog post: One year ago this weekend?.

  9. Abhs May 23, 2008 at 11:14 am

    #4 Wow someone is trying to be me!

    much love, bag of douche

  10. jscore May 23, 2008 at 11:19 am

    Hmmm, what’s stopping you from going to South America again? You can always live in Buenos Aires or Rio for 2-3 months and work from home.

  11. dchero May 23, 2008 at 11:20 am

    This is a great post. I don’t really have anything else to add.

    dchero’s last blog post: Boys are Creepy.

  12. Hope May 23, 2008 at 11:26 am

    I remembered looking back and seeing a fountain of pink vomit eject from her mouth and land on her chest and then trickle it’s way to my seat. Americans are fucking disgusting.

    It could be worse.



    And come on, it’s spring. Why are your posts so depressing?

    I think you’re lost and need to find yourself again, somewhere deep down beneath the layers of “game” is the real you. Until you let him out again, you won’t find real love.

  13. Mule May 23, 2008 at 11:48 am

    this ones a real tear jerker

  14. Sparrow May 23, 2008 at 12:26 pm

    Honestly, who cares about a little blob of grease? It really does sound like an excuse. Do you really want to find a girl or not?

  15. Anonymous May 23, 2008 at 12:59 pm

    When you posted “I went out to Fly recently…” I thought you were going to post something like, “and the new experience of commanding an airplane going 140 knots at 10,000 feet is exhilirating.” Instead, you just went out. Maybe you should expand your horizons.

  16. DylanSq May 23, 2008 at 1:52 pm

    Wow…who would have thought?? Going out to the same clubs, talking to the same type of people gets boring after a while. There’s more to life than just “slutting” away.

    Here’s an idea: find an intelligent, ambitious, well-rounded gal. You typically won’t find her in a bar. Bonus points if she’s not American.

  17. Sparrow May 23, 2008 at 2:20 pm

    yeah, come to Europe, we are full of nice girls in here. 🙂

  18. Eric May 23, 2008 at 2:46 pm

    I really like the advice you gave him. If you only had one tip to give, I think what you told him carries the weight of an entire ideology within it.

    Eric’s last blog post: Great Expectations.

  19. hmm May 23, 2008 at 2:49 pm

    15 – DylanSq – Out of curiosity, where do you suggest one find an intelligent, ambituous, well-rounded gal? I do keep my eyes open for such women but don’t encounter many. When I do run across them I find that they never put out and are quite demanding. Undoubtedly the non-American ones are better though!

  20. todd hackett May 23, 2008 at 3:56 pm

    you could try meeting non-american women like this at a Bolivian pizza parlor

  21. roissy May 23, 2008 at 5:09 pm

    There was nothing wrong with her, but come on. I’m in my prime I shouldn’t have to converse with that.

    don’t worry. even past your prime you won’t have to converse with that. being a man is good.

    roissy’s last blog post: Who Art Thou?.

  22. InterestedParty May 23, 2008 at 6:16 pm

    “Because I refuse to go out with girls like you.”

    When girls ask me “that” question, this is the real answer about 80% of the time. Like you, I never actually say it. That’d go beyond being a mere jerk.

  23. agnostic May 23, 2008 at 7:34 pm

    Aren’t there any places where it’s mostly college kids? There has to be at least one 18+ club in the DC area. Shit, hit up the food court at Montgomery Mall! Or the Barnes & Noble in downtown Bethesda. The suburbs have their share of low-quality girls, but if you’re looking for unpretentious and young (= no money), that’s where to go. College Park, too, maybe.

    The younger they are, the more likely it will become that you’d have to shave the beard, but it’s worth it.

    agnostic’s last blog post: Don’t lean in when talking to girls.

  24. agnostic May 23, 2008 at 7:36 pm

    Plus it’s the summer and all the local girls who go to college somewhere else have returned for three months, and are probably looking for an “it doesn’t count” summertime fling before going back to college.

    agnostic’s last blog post: Don’t lean in when talking to girls.

  25. todd h. May 23, 2008 at 8:36 pm

    in your prime?? you know what they say about people who live in glass houses, or their dad’s basement… Be honest with yourself:you quit a job you found to be empty. fair enough. you travelled and wrote. you’re pretty good at scoring and giving advice about it. but are you really such a prize for these elusive “quality women”? now and then it even sounds like you hate women and people in general. it comes across in some of your posts (e.g. the 35 year old…). which brings up another point…
    be nice to everyone, if for no other reason, you never know who’s watching. it’s one thing to be a player. it’s another to be a Man.

  26. mike says May 24, 2008 at 1:15 am

    the comments never live up to the post.

    ifyou were to make a movie about your life, zach braff would play you and do the soundtrack. he’d have to man up a little, but it’d work.

    good meeting you the other week at lucky. i flew to india the next day with a vicious hangover.

  27. Jewcano May 24, 2008 at 11:19 am

    Agnostic – Your best choices for 18+ in the city are the Chinatown clubs (Platinum, Ultra/Home/whatever it is) and Fur. In general these are all disasters. Ultra is your best pick out of the bunch, but some nights it’s hot Latin minors, some nights it’s the Russian mafia. Roll your dice.

    Late-night Little Amsterdam is a serious winner.

    Jewcano’s last blog post: You Are What You Do When It Counts.

  28. I agree with Todd H Post #24 May 25, 2008 at 5:14 pm

    A girl once hurt you and hurt you baaaaaaaaad.
    Did you not learn that manipulating and using other people causes pain?
    Why you gotta make this your mission in life to incite others to use and manipulate young, stupid,inexperienced, foolish, plastic, drunk girls in their 20’s…just because you can?

    Is this really something to be proud of?

    Do you honestly believe, Roosh, that one day you will not become old, fat, bald, etc. just like everyone else?

    How come anyone who disagrees with Roosh’s male bravado has just gotta be ugly, fat, frigid, stupid, been burned badly, etc???

    Grow up!

  29. Stop wanking and buy a spanking! May 25, 2008 at 5:25 pm

    Roosh, it appears as your only interest in women these days is for you to access to their sex parts.

    Why don’t you pay a legal prostitute for their services when you visit Nevada? That way your sexually frustrated needs would be met and you don’t need to be preying on those you deem lesser than yourself…which seems to be any female you encounter these days.

  30. Ned May 26, 2008 at 2:25 am

    Roosh clearly has no problems attracting girls. If he did, he’d probably be overly nice to every one of you

    He just knows most girls suck–the way a lot of guys suck

    So y’all can stop being all anonymous with your little insults that clearly don’t affect him.

    It isn’t his fault most girls are too wrapped up in themselves and playing their own little games to realize there is something wrong with themselves. A little bit of self realization goes a long way.

  31. todd h May 26, 2008 at 2:54 am

    Roosh can write whatever the F he wants here. it’s his site and we can choose to read it or not. he doesnt need anyone to stick up for him. he put the comment section here in the first place. his bang-homies can quit worrying about him getting too bent out of shape about anything posted. meanwhile, the way this blog is going — it’s pretty clear that Roosh’s choices and the lifestyle he promotes is not bringing him any satisfaction lately. Incidentally, ever seen him smile in a photo? sometimes R. has solid insight. other times, his actions and attitudes are an example of what not to do and how not to think. for me, this cab-driver post was an example of all of that

  32. Raining on the Roosh Parade May 26, 2008 at 2:19 pm

    Hurt people hurt other people.

    People who are comfortable with themselves do not feel the need to lash out at others they encounter in their path.

    Ever hear of an old saying,”If you meet him/her in a bar, one day you will leave him/her there”?

    You are 26 years-old Roosh! Move outta Daddy’s basement, get a job, clean yourself up and find your own path in the world. Getting drunk and complaining about the lack of quality girls in the singles bars ain’t where you are gonna find your true path to enlightenment or meet the perfect woman of your dreams. Come to think of it, Roosh …YOU WILL NEVER MEET THE PERFECT WOMAN BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T EXIST!
    And if any woman (not girl) did come close and you hit it off, you are so damaged inside you will hurt her before she hurts you. Truly something to be proud of back in the boys’ locker room, eh?

    But hey, Roosh…go ahead and keep deluding yourself into thinking you are THE MAN because you can score with loose, easy drunk sluts you can rack up in bars! (Hint: some of those drunk easy sluts are insecure human beings with feelings too.)

  33. Jay Gatsby May 27, 2008 at 9:16 am


    I hate to say this, but you should have expected this would happen. As the old saying goes, “you can never go back”, and yet you still tried. There are two ways you can go from here. You can settle for some woman from DC that doesn’t disgust you but also doesn’t provide much of a thrill, get married, move to the suburbs, have kids and work at a soul-sucking job for the next 30 years. Alternatively, you can move somewhere else with better challenges and that offers more fulfillment.

    If money is your problem, get a job that pays in cash (bartender), save your money, and then disappear to Europe or South America in six months to a year. I’d suggest the former, since there is a wide variety of scenes from which to choose when you get bored.

  34. rcr May 27, 2008 at 1:24 pm

    “You never think at 22 or 23 you’ll get older and become that guy that rather sit at the bar on a weekday and stare at the wall”

    I’ll save you a seat next to me at the dive bar. The girls may not be as hot as the club, but they are certainly far more interesting.