If you enjoy the feeling of being held hostage by an awful Vegas lounge performer first thing in the morning, you'll love Sal.
Sal, for those yet to encounter his wit and unique perspective on the world, is the short, neat, and somewhat fussy driver who keeps up a constant patter as he drives. He's the kind of guy who always has a flirtatious remark for the ladies and a pinch on the cheek for the young ones. He makes corny jokes. He puns. He has little catch phrases, like "Oh boy, oh boy!" and "Cha cha cha!" He never shuts up.
Often times, even when Sal isn't your driver, you feel as if he is your driver, because you can hear his idiotic chatter over the radio as he yuks it up with other drivers.
I've always believed that people who are constantly joking -- well, joking is really the wrong word, because jokes are funny -- who banter so relentlessly that it feels like a kind of aggression, are actually deeply disturbed and desperately trying to hide something unpleasant. So it wouldn't surprise me to find that Sal had once done black ops in Southeast Asia, or run over someone with his bus and lammed it to Mexico for a couple of years.
I know that some people at my stop -- seemingly intelligent, discerning, tasteful people -- find Sal charming. He makes me gag.
