Cabbie 007: His Services Is No Secret
The Washington Flyer Driver Is Immaculately Dressed, His Taxi Spotless; He and Riders From Around the World Bond – James Bond – Instantly

By Stephen C. Fehr – Washington Post Staff Writer (March 29, 1996)


Cabbie Ahmed Hassanzadeh, known as 007, lets a passenger sample his favorite cologne, part of his superior service.
Hop into Ahmad Hassanzadeh's taxicab and see why hundreds of satisfied passengers from around the world say he is the most unusual driver they've ever met.

He greets people by asking them to call him 007, as in Bond-James Bond. And 007 is his Washington Flyer cab number, license plate number and the la:it three digits of his cab phone, which he answers, "Hello, 007: The link to a fictional British spy gives him a cachet, 007 says, that separates him from the more than 10,000 other cabbies in the Washington area.

"What can I do to make sure people remember who I am? So I'm 007, a famous driver," Hassanzadeh said.

007 stands out anyway. He wears a suit, tie and pocket handkerchief to work. Sometimes be offers his passengers sandwiches from home or cookies and bread from a Middle Eastern bakery in Falls Church .

There are cold drinks in a cooler during the summer and, if there's time to stop, cappuccino in the winter.

He even may spray you with a little Cartier cologne, which he keeps on the leather seat of his immaculate 1994 Chevrolet Caprice Classic.

What 007 wants in return for this pampering, besides his fare, is a business card. As proof of his following, Hassanzadeh has collected about 5,000, which he has assembled in 55 small leather books. About half of the books are stored in a Dallas Cowboys gym bag that Hassanzadeh keeps next to him on the cab's front seat as if they contained nuclear codes.


As proof of his following, Hassanzadeh has collected about 5,000 business cards, which he has assembled in 55 small leather books.
The cards are from all over the wor1d, from chief executive officers of Fortune 500 companies, members of Congress and Parliament, ambassadors, bank presidents, actors, astronauts, professors, Secret Service agents and National Dalmatian Cub members. Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Conner left her card. So did Gary Hart, Jesse Jackson and jazz great Stanley Turrentine.

"Nightline" host Ted Koppel gave 007 his card, though Hassanzadeh professes to watch Lettermaan at that hour-the show blew up a New York cab the other night.

"These people run the world,” said Hassanzadeh, 35, pointing to the cards. "In five minutes, they become friends with me."

People write comments on the back. "Most interesting and enjoyable ride ever, including limousines!" complimented one person. Another scribbled: "Your service and companionship are first rate."

Some play off the James Bond theme. A Secret Service agent penned: "To 007. From one agent to another." Los Angeles actor Steven J. Oliver wrote: "Forget Connery, Lazenby, Moore , Dalton and Brosnan. Here's to the real 007."

This month Oliver is appearing on the soap opera " General Hospital ." But the other day, at 7 a.m. Los Angeles time, he called 007 to check on Hassanzadeh's mother, who just bad quadruple heart bypass surgery.

"At first, the who1e thing seemed very peculiar," Oliver said during an interview by phone. "But be was sincere. He wanted to create this persona for himself, and he succeeded."

Hassanzadeh, who wears eyeglasses and 160 pounds on his 5-7 frame, does not look like Bond. But a few years after he was hired by the Flyer, the taxi and bus service at Dulles International Airport , one of his managers remarked, "I don't believe you're a cabdriver. You act like James Bond or something." The nickname stuck.

Born in Afghanistan but now a U.S. citizen, Hassanzadeh came with his family to this country in 1981, settling in the New Jersey suburbs of New York City . He was involved in a family food distribution business and ran a boutique before moving to Washington in 1987 after meeting his future wife at a friend's wedding here.

His taxi company, which is owned by an Afghan native, hired Hassanzadeh two years later. Most of the F1yer's 315 drivers are foreign born; many of them tease 007 about his se1f-promotion and business cards.

"Customers laugh. too, but then I show them my books and they quiet down when they see the names, " Hassanzadeh said. "My job is part P.R., business, marketing, customer service and entertainment."

And Stuart A. Segal greatly appreciates all of that. The Vienna marketing consultant, whose work frequently takes him to New York , has used Hassanzadeh almost exclusively after discovering him three years ago.

"It's one thing to have a driver sit there like a lump and grunt and possibly not even know where you're going," Segal said. "It's another thing to have an upbeat and friendly driver who offers you candy and Afghan bread and picks up your spirits. It's like having a member of your family pick you up."

Hassanzadeh's own family faces challenges. He and his wife, Zarlasht, live in Centreville with their 7-year-old daughter and 5-year-old twin boys. The boys have Down's syndrome, a form of mental retardation that has required several operations. 007 says he makes less than $40,000 a year, and more than a quarter of that can go for his car, fuel and maintenance.

"After the kids were born, a doctor told us to think about giving them up for adoption. I said, 'This is a gift from God. I'm wiI1ing to spend my life with them,' Hassanzadeh said. "Life is very short. We have to be friends and help each other. I always make sure my customers enjoy it until the last minute."

Regular passengers have been known to wait 45 minutes or longer for a ride with Hassanzadeh, even when other cabs are available. He has taken people as far as Pennsylvania and New Jersey . One time he called Japan from his car to check with a passenger's secretary for the address of the Holiday Inn where the man was to stay; it turned out to be in Frederick, Md. He has helped passengers find lost keys and passports. They offer him gifts from London and Paris – and big tips.

"He remembers details; be never fails to ask about my own diabetic 7-year-old son," said Scott Chase, a publisher in Potomac and regular passenger of 007's. On Chase's first ride, Hassanzadeh showed his business-card books and asked for Chase's card.

Thumbing through them, Chase recounted, "I found a friend from National Public Radio and another from the National Association of Broadcasters in minutes. I called one of them on my return home. She said, 'If I can't get Ahmad to the airport, I don't want to go.'"