Taxi driver’s observations likely to offend
That is the title of his self-published account of his years as a cabby. It seems like a clever literary device — take notes of the weird and wonderful goings-on he has witnessed, along with tales of some of his more colourful passengers, track the Saturday night fever of city life, put it all together with a few humorous anecdotes and stick in the shops for Christmas.
Even if the comments are racy and the jokes a bit raunchy, so what?
Who can, for instance, object to “butch looking lesbians” — except, perhaps, the gay women who have endured such bigotry for years. Ditto for “stunning blonds” (assuming he means blondes), “busty brunettes” and the cross-dressing gentleman he describes as “it”.
What’s so awful about describing North African women as “small evil Beaurers (Beurs) full of eastrogen (oestrogen) and alcohol on a full moon night?”
Everything. Far from being a joke, racist gags like this are just a more acceptable way of being racist, like the black and white minstrels of yesteryear.
Who could take issue with being described as a “lovely looking girl and a temptress in her fishnet tights” — except the passenger in question, who was a survivor of sexual abuse.
According to Mary Crilly, director of Cork’s Sexual Violence Centre, such comments damage the trust parents have in taxi drivers.
“When young students go out on the weekends, dressed up as they do, their parents trust taxi drivers to care for them. These comments destroy that trust. How dare this man sexualise these girls,” she says.
Cashman describes drug addicts as “skank heads” and calls Kerry people “pricks”. He calls Travellers “knackers” and “pikeys” and has a policy of not allowing them into his car.
He told the weekly newspaper, the Cork Independent, that his policy should not offend, as it only applied to travellers who are drunk late at night.
“That’s a completely different thing. People should read the whole story and find out why I feel it’s necessary to do that. I have lots of friends in the travelling community, too. I don’t have a problem with them,” he said.
However, they might have a problem with him.
Cashman has offered a money back guarantee to those who have been offended by his book, including what he called “the politically correct brigade”.
“Realistically, the only populous that would be looking for their money back are the politically correct brigade, even though it’s their sons and daughters that this book is based on.”
There is a nastier side to all this. Cashman, who is separated, expresses a hideous death wish by declaring he would prefer to be widowed.
Who’s laughing now — his wife or her lawyer? He boasts about his bootlegging sideline — “we all have to make a living” — and also describes how, on one occasion, he once facilitated a drug deal. He had got a call from prostitutes at a “luxury apartment in Montenotte” looking to buy three bottles of wine.
He claims the girls then asked him where they could get drugs and he complied.
“I then collected the drug dealers, who were from Cork City, and dropped them back to the girls.”
Who’s laughing now — the gardaí or the DPP? The sad thing about all this is that Cashman is clearly a fine observer and had a great idea for a book. He notes “at 3am herons and cranes come into the city centre. They are incredible creatures and come in for the leftovers outside the takeaways in the city.”
Tracking the dark underbelly of life in a city at night was a neat idea. Using that to unleash semi-literate bile on the public is not.
