I was eighteen years old and driving a taxi. You had to be at least twenty-five to drive for Yellow Cab, but I had a fake license. In those days it was very easy to get a fake license. The Illinois Licenses didn’t have a picture on them in those days! Even at the time I knew that was a dumb idea. All we did was put some white-out on our birth certificate and take a copy. The copy looked good, except for not having the seal. A lot of people did that. Read the rest of this entry »
Chicago 1981: I was twenty-one years old, and had just gotten out of the Army. I was married and had two kids already, so I needed to make some good money. I got a job at Majestic Towing- they had two tow trucks and an auto body shop. It was here that I’d learn how to be a chaser.
Day one: George Mawson was sitting behind a beat-up desk piled high with a mess of papers, and barely room for his ashtray. “Come on in Ken, welcome to tow truck hustling. I’m gonna show you your new boss.”
In walked Gary Basso. He was a big fat guy with glasses. He stepped behind another cluttered desk, sat down and put his feet on the corner that had enough room. He took a drag off a cigar, looked at it, and asked in a strong Chicago accent, “Do you know how to hustle?” Read the rest of this entry »