This goes on in the daytime too. So what happens is, we get people like Bullfrog driving Saturday nights. Every cab in the fleet is out on the street.
When you don't make enough money in 5 days, you add a 6th, and perhaps 7th. Years ago, Boomtown told me that he made more in 4 days than he did if he worked 5. I tried this out, and it seemed to be good advice, but it doesn't apply these days. About 6 years ago, I sold out for some pension money and health insurance, and got a real job. No, I won't disclose what I normally do, 5 days a week, but I'm not proud of it. Now, I drive weekends and days I take off as vacation days, so this week I took 2 vacation days. I really want to call it quits on this "real job" of mine and get back in a cab full time, but I'm kind of afraid to do it. My plan is to retire (you can retire with 5 years if you're old enough) in mid winter and return to cab driving, but the economy is sooooooo bad. They tell me I can get on the default schedule for Monday and Tuesday day shifts easy enough, getting on Friday and Saturday 3p-3a default will take waiting through summer, when it's really dead, basicly working about a dozen weekends for pretty much no money, just to lock down the shifts. So, if I start now, I can be where I want to be in September of 2009. Woo hoo.
Now it's Sunday morning, I feel like s$#t, I've worked the last 6 days in a row, and I'm tired. The dog just told me I'm crazy,
and I should remember to take his advice and smell the phone poles before I fall over and die without knowing what the other neighborhood dogs have been eating. He's right, as always. The dog hates riding in the car, he gets panic attacks and shakes. This is due to getting rear ended by a kid with no brakes a year and a half ago. We're an odd couple, the dog and I. I'm a type T personality, and he's the laid back, let me relax and take it easy type. He's smarter than I am.
3 comments:
Your dog talks to you? Isn't that how Son of Sam got his start?
That I'm not sure of, but yes, he certainly talks to me. In fact, he just a moment ago came and bugged me for something to eat.
When I should be saying to myself, I need to do this or I should not have done that, I often give my dog credit for telling me what ever it is. He's a really kind, smart creature (unless you're a woodchuck). His love is not unconditional, it must earned. And, he did indeed get dogged this weekend. The Sunday roast chicken that we usually share, didn't happen, so I owe him one. No, he doesn't get dog crunchies, he eats what I eat.
Oops, my mistake. It was actually a demon in a neighbor's dog that did the talking.
Guess that means you're okay.... For now.
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