Words by Ariel Schrag
Portraits by Julia Gillard
For three years, Melissa Plaut (32), drove a yellow cab in New York City. While driving, she kept the blog New York Hack - writing nightly updates of her adventures from behind the wheel. In September 2007, Random House published her memoir, Hack, which extended beyond the blog, revealing the full story of her years as a New York cabbie. While it's no longer her main job, Melissa still drives a cab from time to time. I first met her nine years ago when she came to my college dormroom to pick up some art I had done for a magazine she worked at (the now defunct Popsmear). We dated - awkwardly, disastrously - for about three months. Then we became best friends and have remained so ever since. Melissa lives in Brooklyn and I live in LA working as a writer for The L-Word. We talked on the phone right before Christmas.
Ariel: OK, so what I'd like to start with is if you could describe what your life was like before you started driving the cab. Who were you before any of all this happened?
Melissa: Who was I? Who?
Who was Melissa Plaut before she drove a cab, wrote a book and all of that?
Well, I had been working for about three years at this advertising agency where I was the copywriter and copy editor. And I was just miserable and directionless and...
What sort of things were you writing about?
I was writing primarily about make-up and mineral water. Obviously, these were really fascinating topics for me.
Because I know that make-up is one of your interests!
Who isn't really interested in make-up? I mean, come on! But seriously, I was so bored and felt like I had really lost something; some set of ideals, some sense of what my life was supposed to be like that I'd had when I was younger. I just felt like a sell-out. I was making money and it was easy and I didn't have to work that hard, but it was all incredibly depressing. I was coasting, and I think that's a trap that a lot of people fall into. But I didn't know how the hell I was going to get myself out of it. It was just too comfortable for me to quit. So when I got laid off, I felt like I was actually really lucky in a way, you know - even though it was also terrifying.
And at what point did the idea of driving a cab come to you?
The breaking point for me was admitting that I still had no idea what the fuck I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I've never been able to just pick one thing that I was going to do forever. So when I realised that, I thought, ‘Well, why can't I just try a lot of things?' You know? For years, I had thought about driving a cab, but only as this totally impossible, unrealistic thing. Not even an option, just sort of a ‘Haha, wouldn't that be funny?' type of thing. And then this time, with that thought lingering somewhere, I was like: ‘Wait a minute, I could actually just go and do it.'
What stopped you before? Was it different because you were running out of time; you were 29 and thought you couldn't afford to put it off?
Yeah. I think when you're in your early- to mid-20s, you think you have a lot of time. And certainly this idea of being in one's 20s is that they feel endless. As much as I thought my identity was formed and set when I was around 25-years-old, if I look back now, I can easily see that I was still trying to figure it out.
You explored your sexuality at this time too, right?
No. Ariel.
This is GLU! We're supposed to talk about your sexuality.
That wasn't then. I wanted to talk about something else. God, you just take this antagonistic tone sometimes.
Let's go back to how you decided to become a cab driver.
Can I just pause the interview for a second and talk about how I'm mortified about how this tape is going to sound? I imagine it's going to sound a little bit like that tape we made in your freshman dormroom when we did a bunch of coke and recorded ourselves...
It's not going to sound anything like that! So what appealed to you about being a cab driver?
I think there are a lot of people in New York who have always contemplated it, which is exactly what I had done. It's sort of like: Wouldn't that be so weird? What do cabbies see? What's a day in their life like? It's such a mystery and I guess that was the appeal.
Was there something appealing in an old-fashioned way, because it's this really simple job. Nowadays, you can't even understand what most jobs entail, let alone explain them to anyone.
Yeah, well, I forgot to tell you what my next thing might be now. It might be Wall Street.
I'm not in favour.
Just for a year or two.
No.
I don't even know anything about it. That's what is interesting to me.
We can talk about that later. OK, so you do it: you go and become a cab driver. Was there a moment that you remember thinking, ‘Oh my God, I'm doing this!' How did it feel when you actually started?
It was one of the greatest feelings I have ever experienced. I was terrified and exhilarated; I felt total freedom. You know, like, I chose this. I broke with my upbringing and the paradigms I had grown up with, and went ahead with my own idea.
You could really feel like you? Whoever that is...
It's funny, though, because it has less to do with the specifics of driving the cab as it does with having made the decision to do it and how it all played out. Having the determination to go through with it, despite all the obstacles, despite being the only woman walking into these rooms to get my licence. Walking into taxi school and being the only woman - the only American-born, white, college-educated, native English-speaking person - and thinking: ‘OK, I have fear but I'm not going to let this fear... the fear of the unknown, the fear of doing these strange things around strange people and being singled-out as unusual in these circumstances... I'm not going to let any of these fears or anxieties control my actions.' So it was an amazing feeling: I'm sitting in the cab, it's dark, it's four in the morning, and I'm driving over the 59th Street Bridge for the first time with no idea what to expect on the other side when
I get into Manhattan. I remember so perfectly that moment of entering this city to see what it had to offer me. I think there's something just so New York about it; how so many people move here and enter this land to see what it's going to bring to their lives.
You could totally make it - or you could totally fail. They are both places of extremes.
And of extreme potential.
So, at what point did you start writing about driving a cab?
People would ask me all the time, ‘Are you going to write about it? You should write about it.' And I would almost get mad at them. Like, Why? Why can't I just do something? Why can't I just do this and have it be an experience. I felt like it was almost the same thinking I'd grown up with: why would you ever drive a cab, why would you ever stoop so low unless you were going to make money off it or try to turn it into some artistic pursuit?
Like you must have this ulterior motive.
Yeah, like some sort of artistic motive, which is the only thing that makes it respected. If you're not going to be white collar you better be pursuing the arts in some way.
You wanted outside of that.
Yeah. Think about it: we are friends with all these unusual people who have taken that ‘alternative' route in their lives. They're not going to respect the white-collar pursuits, but they would respect artistic pursuits. Even for them, it was out of the ordinary. Not to say I'm so fucking special, but just to say it was not in line with that paradigm.
I mean, have you ever asked yourself the question: before you die, if you had to pick whether you could've produced the most amazing art in the world - which would probably had some amazing effect on other people - or whether you could've had the most amazing experiences in life, and not have produced anything from it... which would you pick? And I think for me, at that point, I chose experience. I think you might choose the other one.
It's generally not about: ‘Oh, I have to leave this thing behind when I die.' But for me, it's the act of writing something. Communicating to people is extremely exciting and I feel compelled to do that.
I think at that point I didn't even feel compelled to choose. I just want the experiences that seem appealing to me. And I want something that breaks me out of my normal everyday mindset; out of the little world that I've built for myself here - as well as the one that I grew up with.
I want to see the world in a new and different way. And I would never have had access to it without having driven a cab. That, I think, is something that drives me in life. That's how I feel in general: I want to learn new things, I want to see how the rest of the world lives their lives. I think there are a lot of interesting people and stories and places in the world and I want to see as many of them as I can. Including Wall Street.
I'm not feeling it. OK, so you didn't set out to write about your cab, but about a year into it, you started your blog - New York Hack. How did that begin?
Well, what happened was that after a year of driving the cab, I got a digital camera for my birthday and started taking pictures of the stuff I was seeing on the streets. I put it online - kind of in the spirit of a zine - and I sent it to you and a few other friends. I used to include captions like ‘This is the dispatcher's window at the garage' or ‘This is the massive taxi hold lot at Kennedy Airport'. And you guys wrote back asking for ‘more words'. Eventually, the captions grew into longer explanations and stories about what happened during my shifts - and from there it kept evolving and growing. It was also at the same time that I was really starting to have trouble coping with the negative aspects of the job. I mean, it was always hard, but in the beginning it was all so thrilling that it didn't bother me as much. However, after a year, it was catching up on me, and I was having real struggles with my anger and traffic - and all the fucked-up shit that would happen on the streets each night. So the blog became an outlet for all that; it helped me cope and kept me working. I would write after each shift at around five in the morning, so I didn't really have time to be insecure, question myself or be embarrassed about anything.
And the blog quickly becomes very popular. An AP article appears in hundreds of newspapers across the world and pretty soon you're getting thousands of hits a day. Suddenly you have an audience. How did that affect you?
People liked it I think because it was so immediate. If I wrote ‘I chased these fare-dodging kids into a Kentucky Fried Chicken, screaming about the cops like a crazy person' or ‘I almost got killed last night', people would ask what happened? They would comment on each post. It was crazy. I was getting actual feedback about my writing as well as my actions and, essentially, my life in the cab. And most of it was so supportive and cool that it really made me feel better about all the crappy events that happened the night before. It certainly helped me cope with the job, even beyond the act of writing. When
I wrote about chasing those kids who didn't pay their fare, so many people wrote in and commented about how mad they were at these stupid teenagers who'd tried to rip me off - and that felt really good. It was so vindicating, and also exciting to feel like people were on my side somehow; all these people who didn't even know me.
OK, so you do the blog, and then you get this book deal.
Hahaha. It's so ridiculous. Who gets a book deal?
It's like you're venting: it's cathartic; you're communicating; people are loving it... but now all of a sudden you have this book deal and you get all this money. And when there's money involved, suddenly everybody's got a new opinion.
Yeah.
Did you get any negative reactions when you had this news?
I was overwhelmed with positive reactions. But of course, you know, it's the internet - and there were people who were very upset and angry and accused me of being a sell-out. There was this one commenter on the blog who went under the name ‘cabbiesreadthis'.
To all the cabbies out there.
Either that or he was telling me that other cabbies read the blog. I don't know what his point was but he would write these really malicious, vitriolic statements. He thought that I was a journalist who had driven a cab for a couple years just to get a story. I came across one of my favorite comments from him when I was with you in Vancouver when you were shooting The L Word. And I was like, ‘Uh oh! There's another comment from cabbiesreadthis. What's he going to say this time?' And he had written: ‘You are a fake, you are a phoney, you're not a real cabbie, you're just a dyke future cat lady with a dildo in the drawer.' Do you remember I looked up at you and said: ‘How did he know?'
Can you tell people about your Wikipedia entry?
Somebody created a Wikipedia entry for me and it was all normal and fine, so I was like, oh cool, whatever. And then you called me and said: ‘I just found your Wikipedia page and it's really weird. Go look at it.' I ran to my computer and read the beginning of the old entry, ‘Melissa Plaut is a blogger, blah blah blah...' And then somebody had really gotten very creative and had written: ‘While not wearing the hat of a cabbie, Melissa lives a lonely spinster life on a sixth-floor walk-up in her Bushwick, Brooklyn, apartment and masturbates with a roasted Kosher chicken.'
This also reminds me of when you had written ‘Amazon is being retarded' on your blog, and someone wrote back saying: ‘Watch your language Jew cunt dyke.'
I took my comment down. I knew it was wrong when I did it. But yeah people have called me all sorts of names. And it's funny, because
I used to get all this random gay-bashing on the blog before anyone knew that I was actually gay! But after I ‘came out' in the book, nobody ever called me a dyke again. The only negative reaction to me being gay was from this one this one reviewer from the Rocky Mountain News or something, who had written: ‘The book is OK, except I don't like how she takes so long to come out of the closet as a lesbian. I'm deep into the book, on page 79 or something, and then she comes out suddenly. And furthermore, she doesn't reflect on how her sexuality affected her career choice.' And my response is: ‘You tell me about how sucking dick made you want to be a journalist - and I'll tell you about how eating pussy made me want to drive a cab!'
You talked earlier about how people couldn't relate to cab driving because it doesn't have the destination of being an artist, which is what they relate to. But the same people also saw a sort of romantic allure in the job. I think specifically because it's tough - and all these dykes want to be tough with, you know, their baseball caps and their hooded sweatshirts and their grimy, dirty hair or whatever.
You should be careful. You're going to make a lot of enemies right now.
I'm saying there's a tough-guy attitude among dykes.
A little bit. I think it's equated with masculinity.
It's equated with masculinity, but it's also equated with what you were talking about earlier - not taking the normal route in life. Doing something gritty like working with your hands. It's a romanticised job.
Which is funny, because I'm kind of like a huge pussy when it comes to most things.
In dyke erotica, not that I've read a lot of dyke erotica—
Yes you have. You've totally read dyke erotica.
—it's always some butch, dirty-nailed trucker pulling up at the rest-stop where she meets some woman at the bar. So, in the dyke scene, we've got a lot of artists and stuff, but that's not very butch. And you got to be the thing we've all fantasised about; the actual nitty gritty thing.
Is there a question at the end of this?
How did you feel about being dyke erotica which comes alive?
Shut the fuck up.
Did the girls seem more turned on by you? Did you hook up with any girls specifically because you were a cab driver? Did anyone want to role-play ‘cab driver'?
It's so hard to tell. I definitely think people who already knew me were slightly more interested in me - or had a renewed interest in me - once I started doing this job. And I think that's totally natural, because it's interesting. I mean, who really gives a shit about how your corporate advertising job is going? You know, I don't blame them.
It gave you more confidence, I think. Like, when you go into a bar and you're talking to girls, are you going to say ‘oh yes, I write about make-up' or are you going to say ‘yeah, I'm a cab driver'? You walk a little taller if you're proud of what you do.
I don't deny taking a little bit of pride in it.
Did people ever have sex in the cab? Give us some teasers.
People have definitely gotten busy in the cab.
I don't think anybody has had full sex that I knew about. If they did, they were very discreet.
But you've heard noises.
I've heard noises. I've definitely heard oral sex between a man and a woman, and I think there might have been some gay male handjobs. I've seen lots of making out: that was the most common occurrence. But what people do with their hands is very hard to tell, so I don't know.
Have you yourself ever had sex in a cab?
I think you and I hooked up in a cab once. I have a vague, sort of half blocked-out recollection. Some sort of painful traumatic memory comes bubbling back up from our dating days.
In a cab?
I think we were in the back of a cab.
What happened?
I don't know. I think we were going to Chelsea. I don't know why we were in a cab or what we were doing. Ariel, this is as far as I can think: it starts to feel dirty the more I think about it.
Let's move on to another question. So the book has been out now since September, and the paperback is coming out soon.
Don't you think you should ask me that other question about whether or not I fooled around in my cab?
Did you?
Yeah. I never had full-on sex, but I have made out a lot. I don't think I've totally done penetration but everybody's got their own definitions of what lesbian sex is.
You pulled the cab over to the side of the road and got in the back?
Mostly, I sat in the front and just once or twice in the back... God, I sound like such an asshole. I've never made out with people who I didn't know; only people I was actually dating at the time. And I never hooked up with somebody I actually met in the cab. Just for clarity's sake.
And the paperback is coming out soon?
Coming out in June.
So, you came into this for a series of adventures. I know you may not know exactly what the next thing you want to do is, but what are some of the ideas you've been thinking about?
It's not the easiest thing to think: I want to do this next. I guess the most recent thing is that I've started writing a new book. It's about growing up as a metalhead in the 80s and 90s and going to an insane, cult-like treatment center for teens... so we'll see how that goes. But at the same time, I'm also looking into taking some classes on animal behaviour because I've always been obsessed with animals - and ultimately I would like to be some sort of animal cop or somehow part of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the ASPCA.
So you go into someone's house that's abusing animals? You're not just dealing with animals, you're also dealing with criminals.
Yeah. I'd also really like to do search and rescue for animals; perhaps for the Humane Society.
You want to be connected to the rescue community?
Also, as I've been mentioning, the newest idea - which feels a little bit like the cab idea - is Wall Street. I know you think it's douchey, and it is douchey. Wall Street is douchey. But wouldn't it be weird to just go get a job on Wall Street and become some weird investment banker or something? Just for a year or two.
I don't think it would be weird. A million other people do it.
It's just that I don't know the first thing about it.
I found some book about it that I'm going to get.
I will say that you enjoy math.
I like math. I also just think it's funny because it's like this weird New York archetype - much like being a cab driver. And it's at the completely opposite end of the spectrum. I could do it for a year. It's not totally thought-out yet though.
I'll support you in any decision you make.
I've also thought about doing some short-term things, like volunteering at an orphanage in Haiti or something similar. I heard about somebody doing that recently and you can just go for three months. Maybe that would be enough for me or maybe I would want to continue.
You used to talk about going to Africa to save the monkeys.
Right, except that I'm deathly afraid of insects. That sort of prevented me. Now, I'm ready to deal with it. So we'll see...
In closing, can you just talk a little bit about yourself - what kind of music you like? Any hobbies?
I basically listen to the same music I listened to as a teenager; Metallica, Black Sabbath, The Misfits, Guns N' Roses... stuff like that. But as the new book I'm writing is all about my teen metal years, I now have a good excuse for still listening to all that old stuff. I just finished reading Nikki Sixx's book, The Heroin Diaries, which are his journals from 1987 - when he almost died for, like, the third time. Clearly I'm hanging onto the past, but I'm also trying to catch up with newer music too. Lately, I've been getting into other testosterone-filled bands that appeal to the contemporary teen boy, like Against Me and Man Man.
Who are some people that really inspire you? That you see as role models?
Jane Goodall. Cesar Milan.
It really feels like you want to go and work with animals.
I feel like working with animals are going to be the last thing I do. I feel as thought I should put it off. It would be the ultimate goal. But then again, maybe not. But that's OK. I have the freedom to decide that. I'm trying to think of who else inspires me... Robert Young Pelton. I gave him a ride which is how I heard of him. He got into my cab just after getting back from Iraq in early 2005. He travels the world and has a book called The World's Most Dangerous Places, and a website called ‘Come Back Alive'. He goes around and experiences these places that most Americans would never dare set foot in without some sort of automatic rifle on their shoulder. And he also talks to people there and then, of course, writes about it. But I don't think it's about being a writer. I think it's about having experiences and sharing them. And that's something I really admire and would ultimately like to do. But we'll see... I don't know if I'm ready to go to the world's most dangerous places. I'm not such an adrenaline junkie that I need to do that. But I'm definitely an experience junkie... if I had to reduce myself to two words.
It doesn't necessarily have to be dangerous, though, just something new and interesting.
Yeah, exactly.
Have you had any other famous people in your cab?
The biggest celebrity I had in my cab was Jon Stewart from Comedy Central. I was so starstruck at first that I forgot to turn on the meter for almost ten blocks. He turned out to be really cool and exceedingly modest. He tipped well and even let me take his picture at the end of the ride. Let me think... I've also driven the actor Justin Theroux, who was in Six Feet Under, Mulholland Drive and, I think, Charlie's Angels. I've met the wife of former NYC mayor David Dinkins in my cab, as well as a couple of up-and-coming musicians - and a whole bunch of opera singers and struggling actors. And if there were any other celebrities in the back of my cab, I didn't recognize them, ha!