Car 6

216
Mr Sam Cruza

Outward appearance

New York taxi driver? Translucent, polished complexion. Wild black hair, little moustache, clean but worn clothes, grubby shoulder bag full of uniform slices of paper. Smiles to himself, cupping his hand around the left side of his face.

Inside information

New York taxi driver. Came to London for some fun, plus he needed to duck out of a drugs rap. Some guys he knew got caught. Now he sells The Big Issue and shares with some Americans he met coming over. He eats their food and does not replace it.

He's got all these women dancing, man. They think he's from all over: Arabia, Turkey, Romania, places he's just seen on a map. He tells them all kinds of stuff.

On Charing Cross, he saw every one of them go past in the train windows. So he went into this car, and one of them was here too. So he's sitting low-down at this end of the carriage.

What he is doing or thinking

He's not really ready to introduce all those ladies to each other just yet.

He wants the rich businesswoman most only cause she's the coldest piece of ass. Beverley is sentimental -- but she'll be good for cash. The spent old broad who says she's Matisse's granddaughter, she keeps saying she's poor, but who knows -- maybe she'll give him a painting. Anita is dangerous. She's smart; she could turn on him. Sam's a little afraid of Anita. Her, he would like to hurt.

All in all, it's probably best just to cruise on down to the Elephant.


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