• Brian D. Hinson

The Nazi Recruiter

From Isleta Casino I picked up this 40-ish man, a touch portly with tightly-cropped blonde hair, who climbed into the passenger seat with a big smile and a rapid-fire cadence to his speech. He opened up his monologue with a joke about Hitler—a joke that flattered Hitler. From my disgusted grimace he gathered that I wasn’t a fan of the joke. He laughed and said, “I’m kidding I’m kidding I’m kidding!”

But he didn’t stop there. “I can tell you’re a really cool guy like really cool so what music do you listen to?” Before I could even answer he’s throwing out names, “Dave Mustaine? Ted Nugent? Kid Rock?” The angle was obvious.

My reply was “No, no and no.”

“You know us white people really got to stick together.”

Well, shit. I always promised myself that if I ever met a real-life Nazi, I would punch him. If I assaulted this guy while Ubering, well, not only would Uber kick me off the app, I might be charged and end up in jail. It’s not like this guy was threatening me. The philosophy he was spouting threatens the exhaustive list of people colored other then white, and of non-straight sexualities, and every religion not Protestant, but I wasn’t personally, physically threatened. I couldn’t punch him. And, I regret to admit, I didn’t even want to risk my Uber rating with this Nazi by telling him off and dumping him by the side of the road. I’m not sure of Uber’s Nazi policy, even if I had video evidence of his flagrant Nazism.

And he kept going. “I did some time in jail like five months for cooking meth but I don’t do that stuff anymore but I really met a lot of cool guys in there like the Bandidos have you heard of the bandidos motorcycle gang they’re really cool guys you would like them we really ought to hook up cool guy like you you would make a lot of friends there and you’d make a lot of money…”

Maybe he no longer cooks, but they way he was talking and acting, he certainly was on something. The drive from Isleta to his place in the middle of Albuquerque was not exactly short, and with him going on and on like that it seemed a lot longer then the 20 minutes I was actually stuck with this guy.

I declined his repeated offers to “hook up.” I left him at his house, relieved to be done with him.

Nazis. They’re out there. And one of them is doing a lot of meth.

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