Driving a Teen Cabby Crazy.

• Author: POLLACK, ALEX
• Position: Driving taxi, no fares - Brief Article

GERMANTOWN, TENNESSEE--It all began innocently enough. Like any normal teen, I was exhilarated on my 16th birthday to finally own a car, even though it was a family hand-me-down: a 1990 Mitsubishi Sigma. It was a beat-up car, but it was my car.

For years, I had dreamed of driving around with my friends, enjoying the independence and freedom I'd only heard about. So I started giving a ride here, a ride there, and bam! I suddenly became Bargain Cabby on Demand. I swear this job wasn't mentioned in the driver's license manual.

On Saturday nights, I often peer into my rearview mirror to see a stranger wedged between my friends in the backseat. He's one of those friend-of-a-friend types I always end up taking everywhere. When the night is young, I trudge along with little complaint directed toward the 12-clowns-in-a-coupe circus routine that goes on back there. However, I almost expect tips throughout the night as the door-to-door transports from house to house grow rather tiring.

My friends chat and chuckle as I nervously glance at my gas-tank gauge, hoping it doesn't claim the $20 I've budgeted for the night. Usually, these Saturday drives are aimless, or at the request of my passengers. I get to make five-minute stops at just about every exciting destination in town--the drugstore, the grocery store, the fast-food restaurant, and the gas station!

If these places don't exactly signal a fun evening out, understand this: When you're 16, your options are limited. Our sprawling nights...