Looking through an old drawer, I found a business card given to me by a customer many years ago. It's for "Uppy's Taxi." The address is listed as 131 Main Street, but with no city or state. On the back of the card is a short poem entitled, "The Taxi Driver Knows!" Here it is:
He knows all our sorrows and all our joys.
He knows all the girls that chase the boys.
He knows all our trouble and all our strife,
He knows every man that steps out on his wife!
If the Taxi Driver told all he knows,
He would turn all our friends to bitter foes.
He would start forth a story, which gaining in force,
Would cause all our wives to sue for divorce.
He would get all our homes mixed up in a fight.
He would turn all our bright days to sorrowful nights.
In fact, he would keep the town in a stew,
If he told one-tenth of all that he knew.
So, when out on a party and from home you steal
Call Uppy's Taxi, the driver won't squeal.
Not exactly Yeats, but the point of the poet is well taken, and I would venture it holds true for small-town cabbies everywhere.
Yes, I tell taxi stories, but you won't catch me talking out of school. Like the guys from Uppy's Taxi, I won't squeal.