Who's in the Limo: The first of a series

By Billy Pistole

Growing up in a small Redneck Cowboy town in California, this guy managed to live quite an unexpected life—tromping cotton in winter, branding cattle in the summer, a stint in the US Army, and with wheels moving all the time. Join this veteran as he rubs elbows (and more) with some of the world's most recognized, famous, and infamous. Hop alongside this veteran limo driver and take a ride. Some trips stranger than fiction. At times you may be laughing out loud; other stories might have you wishing to grab the door and run. Even the "not" famous is just as offbeat/colorful in their behavior and lifestyle. This collection of stories is part memoir and part documentary, always with a keen eye on the varied state of human disarray. Hop on in for the ride of your life, and as always, seat belts are optional.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781644628829

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Who's in the Limo

The first of a series

Billy Pistole

Copyright © 2019 Billy Pistole

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2019

ISBN 978-1-64462-881-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64462-882-9 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Story 1

Story 2

Story 3

Story 4

Story 5

Story 6

Story 7

Story 8

Story 9

Story 10

Story 11

Story 12

Story 13

Story 14

Story 15

Story 16

Story 17

Story 18

Story 19

Story 1

Circa 1993

My name is Billy Pistole. This is my biography and memoirs of a limousine driver. I was born in the late fifties in a small farming community. We lived in the projects. I’m number five of seven children. My mother died at thirty-two years old. She had cancer of the uterus. While my mom was in the hospital dying, my dad was banging my fifth-grade teacher. I was all set to be held back in fifth grade and have to do it over, but I somehow went from straight Ds and Fs to making the honor roll! Needless to say, I got jumped by a bunch of the kids on the way home on the last day of school.

Where I grew up in the projects there were three white families, five black families, and about three hundred migrant farm worker families. There were rich and poor people in my town, and we were somewhere near the bottom, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, let me get on with moving back to some of the stories that I have to tell you about my life. I want to tell you some exciting limousine stories.

Well, the first one is…

One night, Michael Fiorini, another limousine operator, had called me and said, Hey, I want you to go to Tijuana. I got these three strippers that want to go to Tijuana.

I said, Well, I don’t really want to do that. It’s midnight. You know, I just feel something in my bones that don’t feel right going there at that time of night, especially with these type of people.

But I went ahead and took the job, because I needed the money. So I go to pick these girls up and they’re in the car and they’re looking hot. I turn around and say, So, what are we doing going to Tijuana, ladies? And they go, Well, we were down there partying earlier with one of our friends and we left our friend and we want to go back and get our friend.

So, I’m thinking it’s, you know, probably another stripper.

So, anyway, we get down there. I buy the extra insurance. We cross the border. And I parked about two or three blocks from this nightclub where I dropped them because there was no parking. It’s a pretty sketchy area, and at the time that I was there, cell phones were about the size of a brick, and you got no service once you crossed the border. I felt kind of stranded there.

I was surrounded by about twenty Mexicans. I spoke a little bit of Spanish since it is similar to Italian, and I know all the bad words, so I say, Donde cervesas? I give everyone beers and rum and vodka, whatever’s in the car.

And they offered to move their cars from in front of the nightclub, a couple of cars actually, and they say, Hey, I move the car, and you put the limo right there.

Cool, that’s a lot safer than being this far away. I could have gotten carjacked or killed or both where I was parked. So anyway, they put me right in front of this club that’s supposedly owned by a cartel. I don’t know which cartel, but it has a definite strange name called Baby Rock.

Anyway, so I’m waiting and waiting and waiting for these girls to come out, and it’s almost getting light out. It’s about half hour before light and, all of a sudden, I see, you know, I look up to my right, and I see the stairs, I see legs coming at me and crotches with their spandex skirts on and anyway, they come walking down and they got this little greasy haired four-foot-eleven or five-foot little Columbian guy, and he’s talking like he is Tony Montana from Scarface.

He says, Open the door, man, I gonna take care of you, man. So, I unlock the door, they get in. The car’s running, I never shut it off the whole time I was there, because I didn’t want to have to, you know, get a jump-start it or be, you know, stranded.

And so anyway, they jumped in the car, and they locked the doors because there’s a button in the back. You can, you know, lock the doors for safety - for them. And all of a sudden, I’m standing there with the Mexicans I’ve been hanging out with for the last four hours or so, and they shone a flashlight inside the limo. I see the guy reach through the divider and get my metal book that I write my run sheets up on. They’re called a waybill, in the limo business. So I have this metal book on the dash, I see him reach through and get it. Well, I’m thinking, what the heck is he doing with my book? So the Mexicans that I was hanging out with, shining light inside the limo, through the glass, and they see what he’s doing. He has a big rock of cocaine, and he’s got a rocks glasses, bucket actually, that you drink out of, you know, a rocks glass. And he’s breaking up this rock, and they’re inserting it in condoms! And the Mexicans shine the light inside the limo and they said, in Spanish, Donde la coca?

And I go Whoa, man. And I look twenty yards away, and there are two Federales walking toward us, and so I bang on the window, and I say, Let me in. Open the door, open the door.

So they open the door and I get in the front seat and the Federales were shouting, Alto! Alto! And I go, Chale, like, you know, adios, no save. So I take off, headed to the border. I’m getting the hell outa there. And then the guy hands me my book, and I go, Hey, you guys got that stuff put away.

And he goes, Yeah, man. Here.

He hands me my book, and there’s powder all over it. So I’m rubbing it on my gums, and rubbing it into the carpet.

And we pull up there to the border and the officer says to me, What country are you from? I said, California and he says, No, not what state, what country? I go, California, USA, right there, San Diego. He goes All right. He writes a little something on this pad and he sticks this thing on my windshield and says, Pull up in the Gray Zone, please.

Well, I want you to know that I’ve been in jail. I’ve been homeless. I’ve been in the army. Now the food in the army and in jail was a lot alike, but uniforms were different. When I got out of the army, I was well-rounded. I had a chip on both shoulders. And I’ll get back into later as we go.

But anyway, they say, Pull up to the Gray Zone. And I have been in the zone, and gray sounds like jail to me, so I was like, Oh, shit, man, I’m going to jail in Tijuana with strippers and a coyote or whatever.

Anyway, so the cops, they’re not even asking the girls anything. The girls are saying, Here, here, come and see me at this, this Club that I work at and I’ll give you a free lap dance. Wink, wink. And they’re all these dogs - guys are acting like dogs with their tongues hanging out, you know.

All three of the girls are passing out their VIP cards for these cops. And there’s only one guy doing anything. He’s the guy with the dog. And the guy goes to me.

the cop says to me, Hey, are there any drugs in the car? And I say No, just like you see people say on Cops, Nope, none that I know of. And he says, Look, you see all the dogs acting crazy, going ape shit? Why don’t you just tell us where it is or we’re gonna tear this car all apart.

I go Fine with me, it’s not my car. And he said, How do you know these people?

I go I’m just a limo driver from North County San Diego. Oh my goodness. So I’m just shaking like a whore in church, and