The kid with the bike who broadsided the cab

Official company policy is that every accident be reported and fully documented. Reality is different. For one reason or another, many accidents do not get reported and are only informally documented. 2 immediately come to mind.

The first one was a guy who was absolutely intent on racing past me on the right and passing me. You know the type, every traffic light is the Christmas tree at a drag strip for them. I don't approve of this kind of thing, the street may be their playground, but it's where I work, and it's dangerous enough without that kind of thing. The guy was in a right turn lane, that vanished into a row of parked cars along the curb on the other side of the intersection. I had 2 or 3 people in the back seat. When the light changed, he floored it. I went through the intersection, and almost immediately it was obvious that if I didn't slam on the brakes and/or change lanes to let him swerve in front of me, he was going to rear end the first parked car, and/or hit me in the process. While I was giving this a moments thought, he swung his car into the cab, just like they do in stock car races. I couldn't believe it! He hit me on purpose. Now I was definitely going to let him by, because I was going to get the cops and needed to keep him in sight. He pulled over almost immediately, jumped out of the car, and started screaming that I'd sideswiped him and I was at fault.

Ah, we need to get the cops for this. He's screaming that this car belongs to a dealership, and it is indeed wearing a dealers tag, and he's a car salesman. Right, and the only good thing about a car salesman is he's not on welfare. I take a look at both cars, and I can't find any damage. How did that happen? I consult with the passengers in the back seat and we vote for telling this idiot that since there is no damage we are willing to let the issue drop, if he is. He agrees, but I do get his name, and the license number, and the names and phone numbers of the passengers, just in case. Yes, people really do such silly ass shit. Of course, the names and numbers are always given to Roy Boy, and he's always agreed with my judgement that it was better to not call the cops that time, what ever time it was.

The second time was a bit more serious. It was a foot ball Saturday night, and I had a load of drunk football fans in the cab. The intersection of Randall and University has always had a light, and everybody turns there, but a slick cab driver will go straight through that intersection and turn on Lorch which is only 80 feet up the street, without waiting behind 6 or 8 civilians who are turning on to Randall. One then turns left on Campus, and right on Randall, no waiting. There is an eastbound bike lane along the left side of University. University a westbound one way street. On the left side of University is an oncoming, or eastbound, bike lane that's seperated from street by a largish curb that's about 10 inches wide. Just as I was turning across the bike lane at Lorch, into the head lights came a student on a bike who was doing at least 20 mph. There was no way he'd stop, I was already in front of him, he was boxed by the curbs on both sides of him in the bike lane, and my only prayer was to floor it and try to clear the bike lane before he got there. I didn't make it. He hit the rear quarter panel on the passenger side right behind the rear axle and flew over the trunk lid, landing on the pavement on the drivers side of the cab. I stopped immediately of course.

The kid with the bike, who was of course unhurt, was hopping mad. I pulled in front of him he said, it was my fault he said, what was I going to do about his bike!!!!!!! His bike looked pretty bad, he was for sure losing the front tire, and front fork. It also looked like a very expensive bike, I never found out if it was or not.

It was true that I pulled in front of him. In the dark, it was impossible to see him in that bike lane. He had no head lamp of any kind. I pointed up at the bike lane yield sign and said, "That yield sign is there for your safety, you ignored it. You have no light on your bike. Would you like me to call the police?" I held the mike for the radio up for him to see, and continued, "If the police come and determine that you're at fault you will be required to pay for the damage to the cab. Do you have insurance like that?"

We bickered for a few minutes, mostly him grumbling. He knew he would be found at fault if the cops came and got involved. I took his name, he did not take mine. Then he stalked off into the night, carrying his twisted bike over his head. I got the names and phone numbers of all 4 drunks in the cab, a bunch of good old boys from northern Wisconsin, down in Madison to whoop it up for the weekend.

Again, Roy Boy agreed with my judgement that any kind of accident with a bike, was something that should be avoided if possible. He took the list of names and numbers, the body shop repaired the quarter panel, the kid probably got his bike replaced at Christmas, and life went on. I don't know about happily ever after, but life went on.

Why do I have to get involved in something like this?

I'm not a social worker. I don't work in a hospital. I'm not a cop. Getting involved in some woman losing her child shouldn't be part of my job. Unfortunately, it has been part of my job, more than once.

I pulled up in front of a really sleazy dive at Union Corners, to pick up somebody going to Hilldale. The woman going to Hilldale was really drunk, and she had a little girl with her. The kid was 5 perhaps. There was also another woman with her who wanted to go first to a liquer store near by, and then to her apartment which was also close by. In my mind, the second woman was the worst kind of predator, but many people would dismiss what she did as minor.

Someone, probably the bar tender, had given the really drunk woman enough money to pay for a cab home. The second woman, took the money from the really drunk woman and bought beer and a ride to her own place with it, leaving the really drunk woman with the little kid about 2 bucks, when she got out of the cab. I don't recall how it came up, but after the predator got out, the subject of money came up, and I found out that the really drunk woman in the cab no longer had the cash to pay for the ride. She was a happy drunk. One of those people with an innocent drunken smile, and a mostly nice disposition, inspite of being too drunk to walk more than 50 feet at a time.

I don't like getting beat out of a ride for any reason, and I'm not a charity. I told her I wasn't going to kick her out of the cab, but I fully intended to give her a piece of my mind. She told me to shut up, she didn't have to listen to my crap. "Yes lady, you do have to listen to my crap, you don't have the money to pay for the ride, so you will listen to my crap."

Drunks don't usually change their mind when it comes to criticism. Even a sweet drunk will turn ugly if they don't want to hear something, and you insist on telling that something anyway. She started getting nasty. I told her that if she wanted to get nasty, I'd kick her out of the cab. She told me that she'd get as nasty as it took to shut me up. What was I telling her? I was telling her she was an unfit mother. I finally put her and the child out of the cab at the corner of First and Johnson. She sat down on the curb, and the little girl tried to take care of her. I had no choice, I had to call the cops. She went to Detox, I'm not sure what the cops did with the little girl.

Why didn't I just shut up? I'm supposed to silently smile as I give a free ride to a woman who is too drunk to take care of herself, and was too drunk to keep the fat pig who was on the bar stool next to her from stealing her money? Why didn't she shut up? She was too drunk to know any better? Still, why do I have to get involved in this kind of thing? Simple, I'm a cab driver.