For many years, more than 30, there has been a big street party on Halloween. Now, it's only actually on Halloween if it falls on a Saturday. People will come to State street in costume on October 31st, reguardless of what day it falls on. The year I'm thinking of, it fell in the middle of the week, and it rained, making it the lamest excuse for Halloween on State street, I've ever seen.
The cops were bored that night. It was so wet and so cold that by midnight, you could drive the entire length of State street. By bartime (1:30 am), most of the cabs had called it quits, and I was trolling for one last drunk before I checked it in. Standing in front of State Street Brats was a group of 5 waving for me to stop (the diplomats had bench seats, so 5 was legal back then). They got in and asked for Edgewood College, which is about 10 blocks out Monroe from Regent street. Cool, a nice short ride, full cab, as good a last fare as you could ask for.
We got to the 1200 block of Regent and the kid sitting next to the window said, "Hey, this is where we get out." So, I stopped. He and one of the kids in the back seat jumped out and started walking into the darkness down Orchard. Orchard is a one way and I couldn't follow them without driving down it the wrong way.
I immediately got the door open, stood up, and yelled over the cab, "Hey, you guys owe me", it was probably $3.25, but I don't recall what the price was at the time.
The kid from the front seat yelled back, "Our friends are going to pay for us." And they stepped up their pace a little.
I looked at the kid in the back seat who'd asked for the ride to Edgewood and asked him, "Are you going to pay for them?"
He replied, "No. I never saw those guys before. You're trying to rip me off, asking me to pay for people I've never seen before. I've got a good mind to not pay you, since you want to rip me off."
"Ok people, end of ride! 5 people from State street to here is $5.25. You said you were together when you got in the cab. You will pay the $5.25, or I will call the cops and you will be cited for refusing to pay me. The cops will make you pay me, and you'll get about a $100.00 fine."
The 2 in the back seat start getting out of the cab, on the passengers side. I go around the cab and say to the guy, "I'm not kidding. I will call the cops. They're pretty bored right now, so I'll get a cop right away. Edgewood is more than 10 blocks from here, I'll follow you, you will get caught. Why don't you just save yourself a lot of trouble, and pay me what you owe me."
He replied, "Why don't I just smash your face into that brick wall, grandpa?"
I took my glass's off and slipped them into my shirt pocket. I said, "Son, that isn't going to happen. Get into the cab! Do it now!!!!"
He looked kind of taken aback. I'd raised my voice a tad when I ordered him to get back into the cab. They got back in. While this eas going on, the 3rd kid had slid out the drivers door, and vanished into the darkness of S. Orchard. I told them I was going to take them back to State street and get one of those terribly bored cops to arrest them. We were off. I was trying really hard to go fast enough through the side streets, that he wouldn't jump out and take off on me. I shouldn't have cared, the girl wasn't going to run off, but all these little events are learning experiences, aren't they.
Both of them started telling me that their fathers were lawyers, and they were going to get me. Yeah, right. If I was a lawyer, and someone notified me that my kid had gotten caught trying to rip off a cab driver for 5 bucks, I'd be really proud of how that kid acted while away at college. I'm not sure if the behaviour would bother me more, or the fact that they got caught, but I know for sure that I would not be pleased. Such a thing might result in cancilation of Thanksgiving bonus, or at least a reduction in the amount.
I was rounding a corner when he made his break for it. True, I had to slow down for the corners, but he must have never taken physics, and never shot pool. If you're going to jump off a moving vehicle, you want the vehicle to be going straight. Why? Well, he has momentum, torque to be technical, that would spin him in the opposite direction. The cab was rounding a left hand corner, his body would want to spin to his right, and that's just what happened.
He opened the door and was going to try to run with the cab, and if it hadn't been for the spin he would have made it. I watched in the rear view mirror as he lost his footing and spun to his right. Down went his hand on the pavement, that didn't hold him, down went his seat on the pavement. 'Oooooo', I thought, 'that had to hurt!'
When we got back to State street, it was actually hard to find a cop. They'd all pretty much called it a night already. I looked at the girl, the only one of the 5 left, sitting in the front seat. She was almost ready to cry. She said, "Please don't let my parents find out about this."
The cop we did find said he was done for the night too, but he'd call us someone. About 10 minutes later, we got 2 squads with female cops. The one who was handling it asked me to give her an amount owed. She was real specific, she wanted me to itemize, and include everything. Ok. Well, let's see.......... 5 people from State street to Orchard and Regent. 1 person from Orchard and Regent to College and Brooks. 1 person from Orchard and Regent to State street. Waiting time on Regent street, 4 minutes. Waiting time on State street, 17 minutes so far. Will she be riding with me to Edgewood? She will. Ok, State street to Edgewood, 1 person. Waiting time at Edgewood will be, and I quoted the amount per minute.
The cop said ok, and talked to the girl for a while. They came back and she had the girl get in the back seat of the cab. The cop said that the girl had no money, so we would all go to Edgewood where the girl would write me a check. Would $35.00 cover it all? Sure, that will be enough. Off we went. We got to Edgewood and the girl accompanied by the 2 cops went into the first dorm on the left (I can't recall how to spell Doreachi), it took about 10 minutes more and the cop returned and gave me a check for $35.00. The check was good, it didn't bounce.
Every time I've thought about it, it amazes me how expensive it was for that moron who bailed out of the cab. He probably never got any from that girl again, and she was pretty nice. The jeans were at least $15.00, and the skin off the palm of his hand, priceless. What an idiot.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
A Halloween story
I have many Halloween story's. I've driven most of the last 20, at night. A couple of years ago, I missed seeing a guy in a little 2 seater Mercedes smoke a phone pole by less than 2 minutes. That he walked away from it, is a real tribute to German engineering. What happened was.....
It was about bar time (2:30 am, is mandatory out of the bar time here), and I had a load to pick up, Club 5 going to Seminole and the Belt. Nice short ride, pays nice, wonderful if they're ready to go. They were in fact, ready to go too! 4 lesbians, a load, as we say. I recall the costumes of one couple, a pirate with a princess. How could I tell they were lesbians? Well, the 2 couples were doing some pretty heavy necking, and pawing, and professing love, and all that sort of drunken stuff. And yeah, the Club is a gay bar.
It's a quick ride. Jump on the belt line, run about a mile and a half west, drop them off quick and head downtown. Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes total. All was going according to plan, until I got to the top of the ramp at Seminole Hwy. There's this guy who's a little unsteady on his feet, waving, he wants a ride. What's he doing here, more or less in the the middle of nowhere, at bar time trying to flag a cab? I rolled down the window and said, "Sorry, I'm full."
Looking past him, to the south side of the bridge, I saw why he was flagging a cab. There was a wooden phone pole, about 15" in diameter, splintered and listing over top of a little 2 seater sports car. The phone pole wasn't broken off, but it was definitely shot. The little sports car was definitely totalled. How could this guy have walked away from that, I wondered.
The thing that comes natural to a cab driver is to pick up the mike and say, "I need the cops at Seminole and the Belt. I need an ambulance. I'm not involved. Single car accident, I have the car and driver in sight." Dispatch told me to stand by.
The guy who'd been driving the car saw me using the radio. He was wearing a cheap Halloween costume, it looked kind of like a gunny sac with a picture of Yogi the Bear on it. He started trotting off down Seminole in the direction of downtown, which is also down a really long hill.
Dispatch came back and asked for details. They do this when they are on the phone with the cops. What does he look like? Which direction is he going? Can you keep him in sight. Try to keep him in sight. All that sort of stuff.
I told my passengers that this was only going to take a few minutes. Sorry ladies. Being a shared ride, zone cab, there is no meter to worry about turning off. The fare is based on where they got in, where they're going, and how many people in their party, not on the route taken, or little side adventures like Yogi Bear smoking a phone pole. One of them says, she bets she'll be out replacing that phone pole tomorrow, she works for Madison Gas & Electric. The phone pole was indeed replaced the next day.
As Yogi trots, we follow. He's in a bad neighborhood to try and hide in. Ahead of him, about 3 miles away, is downtown. To his right is the arboretum, a thick forest environment, really dark at night. To his left is a nice little neighborhood of small homes, but it's bounded by a limited access highway, and a major boulevard, so it's more or less a blind alley that will trap him. I'm behind him. He has no choice but to head down the hill. He heads up a small street that is a dead end, quickly realizes it's a trap, and starts doubling back, trying to get past us, using the back yards. He goes through a couple of peoples back yards and comes out behind us, but we see him and again are following him. The drunken condition isn't conducive to running, but he was doing a hell of a job, considering he had just been in a car accident that should have killed him.
The ladies are beginning to tire of this adventure. A couple of them had their blood up for some touch, and they'd put that on hold for 5 minutes, and who cares if Yogi gets away or not? The wanted to be home in a nice warm bed or hot tub or what ever they did. "Ah, maam you don't understand. Once the cops are called, I'm on the hook to hang around until they come." The cops were definitely coming too. It was Halloween night, so most of the cops were downtown, but a bent phone pole and a totaled car with the guy who did it in somebodies sight is definitely something they want to respond to quickly.
Yogi was doing a pretty good job of sneaking in and out of back yards, but it was really tough. He was drunk. Getting hit with all those air bags is like being in a fist fight, ask anybody who has been saved by them in an accident, you'll feel it for a few days, you'll see stars when they deploy. He wasn't dressed for the cold. It was chilly, low 40's, and all he had for a coat was a gunny sac, no hat, no gloves. A 3 mile walk to downtown will take an hour if he makes it, and it will be a very cold, miserable hour.
Finally, the first squad car found us, we were about 4 blocks from the exit ramp. We'd last seen Yogi about 90 seconds ago, and pointed to a couple of houses, where he'd ducked into the back yards. The cop said there were a couple of more units on the way, that they had what they needed, so we were free to go.
We got back up to the beltline, and crossed to the south side. One of the ladies asked if we could stop for a second and look at the car, I said sure. It still had steam rising from it. The splinted phone pole was broken at an angle of about 45 degrees. All the air bags were blown. The drivers door was hanging open. It was truly amazing that somebody could walk away from that. He'd hit that phone pole dead on.
The ladies went to a home about 5 blocks further on, got out and paid me. They even tipped generously, which considering the delay was mighty generous of them.
My bar rush was shot for that night. It was time to take the car back to the office and check it in.
It was about bar time (2:30 am, is mandatory out of the bar time here), and I had a load to pick up, Club 5 going to Seminole and the Belt. Nice short ride, pays nice, wonderful if they're ready to go. They were in fact, ready to go too! 4 lesbians, a load, as we say. I recall the costumes of one couple, a pirate with a princess. How could I tell they were lesbians? Well, the 2 couples were doing some pretty heavy necking, and pawing, and professing love, and all that sort of drunken stuff. And yeah, the Club is a gay bar.
It's a quick ride. Jump on the belt line, run about a mile and a half west, drop them off quick and head downtown. Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes total. All was going according to plan, until I got to the top of the ramp at Seminole Hwy. There's this guy who's a little unsteady on his feet, waving, he wants a ride. What's he doing here, more or less in the the middle of nowhere, at bar time trying to flag a cab? I rolled down the window and said, "Sorry, I'm full."
Looking past him, to the south side of the bridge, I saw why he was flagging a cab. There was a wooden phone pole, about 15" in diameter, splintered and listing over top of a little 2 seater sports car. The phone pole wasn't broken off, but it was definitely shot. The little sports car was definitely totalled. How could this guy have walked away from that, I wondered.
The thing that comes natural to a cab driver is to pick up the mike and say, "I need the cops at Seminole and the Belt. I need an ambulance. I'm not involved. Single car accident, I have the car and driver in sight." Dispatch told me to stand by.
The guy who'd been driving the car saw me using the radio. He was wearing a cheap Halloween costume, it looked kind of like a gunny sac with a picture of Yogi the Bear on it. He started trotting off down Seminole in the direction of downtown, which is also down a really long hill.
Dispatch came back and asked for details. They do this when they are on the phone with the cops. What does he look like? Which direction is he going? Can you keep him in sight. Try to keep him in sight. All that sort of stuff.
I told my passengers that this was only going to take a few minutes. Sorry ladies. Being a shared ride, zone cab, there is no meter to worry about turning off. The fare is based on where they got in, where they're going, and how many people in their party, not on the route taken, or little side adventures like Yogi Bear smoking a phone pole. One of them says, she bets she'll be out replacing that phone pole tomorrow, she works for Madison Gas & Electric. The phone pole was indeed replaced the next day.
As Yogi trots, we follow. He's in a bad neighborhood to try and hide in. Ahead of him, about 3 miles away, is downtown. To his right is the arboretum, a thick forest environment, really dark at night. To his left is a nice little neighborhood of small homes, but it's bounded by a limited access highway, and a major boulevard, so it's more or less a blind alley that will trap him. I'm behind him. He has no choice but to head down the hill. He heads up a small street that is a dead end, quickly realizes it's a trap, and starts doubling back, trying to get past us, using the back yards. He goes through a couple of peoples back yards and comes out behind us, but we see him and again are following him. The drunken condition isn't conducive to running, but he was doing a hell of a job, considering he had just been in a car accident that should have killed him.
The ladies are beginning to tire of this adventure. A couple of them had their blood up for some touch, and they'd put that on hold for 5 minutes, and who cares if Yogi gets away or not? The wanted to be home in a nice warm bed or hot tub or what ever they did. "Ah, maam you don't understand. Once the cops are called, I'm on the hook to hang around until they come." The cops were definitely coming too. It was Halloween night, so most of the cops were downtown, but a bent phone pole and a totaled car with the guy who did it in somebodies sight is definitely something they want to respond to quickly.
Yogi was doing a pretty good job of sneaking in and out of back yards, but it was really tough. He was drunk. Getting hit with all those air bags is like being in a fist fight, ask anybody who has been saved by them in an accident, you'll feel it for a few days, you'll see stars when they deploy. He wasn't dressed for the cold. It was chilly, low 40's, and all he had for a coat was a gunny sac, no hat, no gloves. A 3 mile walk to downtown will take an hour if he makes it, and it will be a very cold, miserable hour.
Finally, the first squad car found us, we were about 4 blocks from the exit ramp. We'd last seen Yogi about 90 seconds ago, and pointed to a couple of houses, where he'd ducked into the back yards. The cop said there were a couple of more units on the way, that they had what they needed, so we were free to go.
We got back up to the beltline, and crossed to the south side. One of the ladies asked if we could stop for a second and look at the car, I said sure. It still had steam rising from it. The splinted phone pole was broken at an angle of about 45 degrees. All the air bags were blown. The drivers door was hanging open. It was truly amazing that somebody could walk away from that. He'd hit that phone pole dead on.
The ladies went to a home about 5 blocks further on, got out and paid me. They even tipped generously, which considering the delay was mighty generous of them.
My bar rush was shot for that night. It was time to take the car back to the office and check it in.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Now, if I can just get my cab permit renewed......
Most cab drivers don't have a CDL but I do. I can legally drive just about anything on the road. To celebrate getting my CDL renewed yesterday, with NO RESTRICTIONS, good for 50 states, I offer a link to a truck drivers blog http://truckdriverblog.blogspot.com/
And, for some reason, because of the limitations of this clunky machine I use here, it's not allowing me to add http://taxistorys.blogspot.com/ to the blogs I watch, but I like the guys blog and want to follow it, so this link's mostly for me.
And, for some reason, because of the limitations of this clunky machine I use here, it's not allowing me to add http://taxistorys.blogspot.com/ to the blogs I watch, but I like the guys blog and want to follow it, so this link's mostly for me.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
It's not a job, it's a lifesylye. Jesse Trux
Your job stinks
Your love life stinks
The guy in the cab next to you stinks
And it don't get no better than this
Your love life stinks
The guy in the cab next to you stinks
And it don't get no better than this
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
A cab drivers wake, Duane Holloway was my friend
A couple of the mourners, Boomtown and Wanda.
A gathering of a few dozen or more cab drivers is a rare treat. Duane wanted it to be a treat, and he got his way. I will actually include a picture or 2. There was good food, both store bought and home made. What ever you wanted to drink, I thought the cider was rather good. And of course all those people I hadn't seen in years, or only see once or twice a year. They are indeed my family, and I love seeing them, even the ones I don't like. It was held in Tenny Park. Ben Mazel made the wry observation that the last time Duane attempted to reserve a park for a gathering he was denied. Duane was also into Rainbow Gatherings, and the city fathers didn't want that kind of riff raff gathering in a park, it would seem. The gathering to remember Duane was held on Sunday, Oct 12, 2008. Duane was a real cab driver, if ever there was one.
A number of people spoke, I did not. After thinking about him for a couple of days, I do have things to say.
He was from New York City, nobody mentioned that. His cab driving career seems to have started in Key West, Florida, they had a couple of photos of him in a yellow Key West cab. He was also a house painter in Key West, nobody knew that about him. I found out he was a house painter when he and I painted Pari's house, and he was good too, he knew what was wrong with her siding, why it was wrong, and yes Pari, it was the previous owners paint job that destroyed the siding. Like many drivers, he tried to find other things that would turn a buck durring the slow parts of the year, painting for instance.
We used to have this regular rider named Pari. For years she didn't drive, but she finally wanted to, so she got herself a car and a learners permit and hit on all the drivers to go practice driving with her. She had a handicap, so the car was rigged up with the accelerator on the left side, she needed to drive with her left foot. To the best of my knowledge Duane and I were the only drivers who were ever crazy enough to ride with her. My style of being a passenger for practice driving is pretty distintive. According to Pari, she and Duane would go practice driving in the residentail neighborhoods close to Hill Farms, which was near her home, and where she would take her behind the wheel test. I figgured that if she was going to get a license, she needed to really know how to drive, so that's what I insisted on concentrating on. I'll post a couple of entry's devoted to Pari later. I can still hear the high soft accented voice saying, "What means god dammit?"
The gathering included some people I don't know of course. People I knew included Mars Hopper, Boomtown, Wolfie and his dog Luna and his squeeze, Hippie and this charming west African woman who married him (no accounting for taste) and their son, Pinhead and Diaperpin (kid is 5-9, last time I saw him he couldn't walk), Wanda, a couple of Erics, and as I recall them, I'll add them here. God it was good to see them all. Thanks Duane, I'll always remember you in that party at Tenny park.
A gathering of a few dozen or more cab drivers is a rare treat. Duane wanted it to be a treat, and he got his way. I will actually include a picture or 2. There was good food, both store bought and home made. What ever you wanted to drink, I thought the cider was rather good. And of course all those people I hadn't seen in years, or only see once or twice a year. They are indeed my family, and I love seeing them, even the ones I don't like. It was held in Tenny Park. Ben Mazel made the wry observation that the last time Duane attempted to reserve a park for a gathering he was denied. Duane was also into Rainbow Gatherings, and the city fathers didn't want that kind of riff raff gathering in a park, it would seem. The gathering to remember Duane was held on Sunday, Oct 12, 2008. Duane was a real cab driver, if ever there was one.
A number of people spoke, I did not. After thinking about him for a couple of days, I do have things to say.
He was from New York City, nobody mentioned that. His cab driving career seems to have started in Key West, Florida, they had a couple of photos of him in a yellow Key West cab. He was also a house painter in Key West, nobody knew that about him. I found out he was a house painter when he and I painted Pari's house, and he was good too, he knew what was wrong with her siding, why it was wrong, and yes Pari, it was the previous owners paint job that destroyed the siding. Like many drivers, he tried to find other things that would turn a buck durring the slow parts of the year, painting for instance.
We used to have this regular rider named Pari. For years she didn't drive, but she finally wanted to, so she got herself a car and a learners permit and hit on all the drivers to go practice driving with her. She had a handicap, so the car was rigged up with the accelerator on the left side, she needed to drive with her left foot. To the best of my knowledge Duane and I were the only drivers who were ever crazy enough to ride with her. My style of being a passenger for practice driving is pretty distintive. According to Pari, she and Duane would go practice driving in the residentail neighborhoods close to Hill Farms, which was near her home, and where she would take her behind the wheel test. I figgured that if she was going to get a license, she needed to really know how to drive, so that's what I insisted on concentrating on. I'll post a couple of entry's devoted to Pari later. I can still hear the high soft accented voice saying, "What means god dammit?"
The gathering included some people I don't know of course. People I knew included Mars Hopper, Boomtown, Wolfie and his dog Luna and his squeeze, Hippie and this charming west African woman who married him (no accounting for taste) and their son, Pinhead and Diaperpin (kid is 5-9, last time I saw him he couldn't walk), Wanda, a couple of Erics, and as I recall them, I'll add them here. God it was good to see them all. Thanks Duane, I'll always remember you in that party at Tenny park.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Ticket Scalper
The best they could do for me was a 2:00 pm - 10:00 pm shift. I'm not on the default schedule anymore, so I should be grateful for getting anything for a home night game. It was a 7:00 pm kickoff at Camp Randall, so I knew I'd get the business before the game, but it could easily die by 7:30, and stay dead until after 10:00. Somebody asked me how my day was going, on the way to the stadium, and I told them it was great so far, but in order for it to stay great, Penn State would have to blow out the Badgers. If the away team blows out the Badgers, the home fans will start leaving the stadium in disgust around half time, so it wouldn't stay dead until 10:00. My passenger wished me well, and noted that she wanted the Badgers to win.
The last stragglers went to the stadium during the first quarter. Those are all short rides, I ran a few. The dispatcher gave the score a few minutes into the game. Penn State 3 - Wisconsin 0, the Badgers would never catch Penn State, and it was indeed a blow out. Something like 41 - 7 during the beginning of the 3rd quarter. It got really busy, really quick. It was fat, as we say.
I came down Monroe and picked up a lady in front of The Grid, "Travis Terrace", she said.
I would turn left on Regent. I would take it slow until we got past the crowd, looking for another fare going short west. Yes, I split load flags with passengers already in. On a football Saturday, I do it frequently. I rolled up to the light at Monroe and Regent, and a couple of guys walked up to the cab, they wanted to go east, nope, can't help you, this lady is going west. Then we rolled past a couple who were waving, through the open window, they said State st., again, no help. Now it was a guy and girl sitting on the curb at the corner of Breeze and Regent, he tried to help her to her feet, she needed to go to detox, no thanks I don't need vomit in my cab right now, and past them we went. Then there was this older guy, waving in the dark, just past Lathrop. He was the last chance to get a second fare in, so I pulled over, and BINGO, he wanted to go to Hilldale. Get in sir.
Neither of these 2 folks were football fans, and they were both stone cold sober. Refreshing! The guy was 40 something, he said his bike had been stolen. He hadn't locked it, so it didn't surprise him, it was only a 20 dollar bike from St. Vinnies, anyway. I told him about my Raleigh that I got for a $3.00 fare from Busk, I ought to include that story some time.... I noted that they were both sober, and asked them if they were working the game. I figured concessions, selling bratwursts and hot dogs.
As we rode, they talked about living in Europe, he'd lived there for many years, she'd lived there for only a couple, but he knew the city she'd lived in. Lately he'd lived in Mexico. We dropped the lady off, and headed down Midvale, I said, "You must be independently wealthy."
No, he said, he was broke. He said he'd gambled all his money away. He said he had indeed been working the game, he was a ticket scalper.
"Wow, tell me about ticket scalping, if you're willing", I said. I'd always wanted to find out about it, they don't do too many Discovery Channel specials on ticket scalping. So, he told me about his trade. He travels all over the world scalping tickets. He gave me a brief tutorial on how to do it, and made a big point of noting the potential pit falls. 1) You can lose money! 2) Beware of counterfeit tickets! Hilldale was pretty close, so I pulled into the parking lot, and dropped him at his saloon of choice. He pulled out a big wad of twenties, $1,500.00 minimum, and paid me for the ride. I guess he had a passable day at work.
A few fares later, I was telling a lady in the cab about the scalper, and she said she'd had one arrested in Las Vegas when she was out there for a bowl game the Badgers had played in a few years ago. She said she was pretty amazed when she brought the cops back to where she'd bought the tickets, to arrest the scalper who'd sold them to her. He was still standing in the same place selling tickets. Why did she have the guy arrested? She'd been sold counterfeit tickets. The must have been pretty good fakes, the scalper certainly didn't know he'd sold her bad tickets. If he had, he would not have hung around. Kind of makes me wonder, how many people that counterfeiter ripped at that bowl game.
It was a great shift, even if it was only a 2 to 10!
The last stragglers went to the stadium during the first quarter. Those are all short rides, I ran a few. The dispatcher gave the score a few minutes into the game. Penn State 3 - Wisconsin 0, the Badgers would never catch Penn State, and it was indeed a blow out. Something like 41 - 7 during the beginning of the 3rd quarter. It got really busy, really quick. It was fat, as we say.
I came down Monroe and picked up a lady in front of The Grid, "Travis Terrace", she said.
I would turn left on Regent. I would take it slow until we got past the crowd, looking for another fare going short west. Yes, I split load flags with passengers already in. On a football Saturday, I do it frequently. I rolled up to the light at Monroe and Regent, and a couple of guys walked up to the cab, they wanted to go east, nope, can't help you, this lady is going west. Then we rolled past a couple who were waving, through the open window, they said State st., again, no help. Now it was a guy and girl sitting on the curb at the corner of Breeze and Regent, he tried to help her to her feet, she needed to go to detox, no thanks I don't need vomit in my cab right now, and past them we went. Then there was this older guy, waving in the dark, just past Lathrop. He was the last chance to get a second fare in, so I pulled over, and BINGO, he wanted to go to Hilldale. Get in sir.
Neither of these 2 folks were football fans, and they were both stone cold sober. Refreshing! The guy was 40 something, he said his bike had been stolen. He hadn't locked it, so it didn't surprise him, it was only a 20 dollar bike from St. Vinnies, anyway. I told him about my Raleigh that I got for a $3.00 fare from Busk, I ought to include that story some time.... I noted that they were both sober, and asked them if they were working the game. I figured concessions, selling bratwursts and hot dogs.
As we rode, they talked about living in Europe, he'd lived there for many years, she'd lived there for only a couple, but he knew the city she'd lived in. Lately he'd lived in Mexico. We dropped the lady off, and headed down Midvale, I said, "You must be independently wealthy."
No, he said, he was broke. He said he'd gambled all his money away. He said he had indeed been working the game, he was a ticket scalper.
"Wow, tell me about ticket scalping, if you're willing", I said. I'd always wanted to find out about it, they don't do too many Discovery Channel specials on ticket scalping. So, he told me about his trade. He travels all over the world scalping tickets. He gave me a brief tutorial on how to do it, and made a big point of noting the potential pit falls. 1) You can lose money! 2) Beware of counterfeit tickets! Hilldale was pretty close, so I pulled into the parking lot, and dropped him at his saloon of choice. He pulled out a big wad of twenties, $1,500.00 minimum, and paid me for the ride. I guess he had a passable day at work.
A few fares later, I was telling a lady in the cab about the scalper, and she said she'd had one arrested in Las Vegas when she was out there for a bowl game the Badgers had played in a few years ago. She said she was pretty amazed when she brought the cops back to where she'd bought the tickets, to arrest the scalper who'd sold them to her. He was still standing in the same place selling tickets. Why did she have the guy arrested? She'd been sold counterfeit tickets. The must have been pretty good fakes, the scalper certainly didn't know he'd sold her bad tickets. If he had, he would not have hung around. Kind of makes me wonder, how many people that counterfeiter ripped at that bowl game.
It was a great shift, even if it was only a 2 to 10!
Monday, October 6, 2008
The Glitter Twins
The Glitter Twins were these 2 very elderly sisters, who lived in a house on the corner of Mineral Point and a side street, on the near west side. Every Sunday morning, they would get dressed up, and take a cab to the Inn on The Park. They were very nice ladies.
I distinctly recall the navy blue 3 piece suit, one of them wore. It was covered with spills, probably years of spills, coffee, food, and just normal daily wear dirt. It was a very nice, very elegant, wool suit, but it was soiled beyond imagination. It didn't smell good either, but that's ok, if and when I'm in my 90's, I hope the fashion police will look the other way and turn a blind nose.
I liked these 2 ladies. We all liked these 2 ladies. Passengers don't get nicknames like, The Glitter Twins, unless we like them.
I thought about those Sunday dress up outfits for quite a while, 6 months perhaps. What I really wanted to do was to say to them, 'Ladies, could I come by on Monday and take your suits to the cleaners? I'll take them to the cleaners. I'll pick them up and return them to you when the cleaner is finished with them. I'll even pay the fee to make them look like new. May I, please?' I knew I couldn't do this because, if they complained that some cab driver had implied that they were unkempt, dirty, and they stunk, Roy Boy would be really upset. Rightfully so too. You don't go around telling regular passengers, who are favorites, that they're not wonderful to have in the cab. And, it wasn't that they weren't wonderful. It was that if I could see that they were wearing dirty clothes, the rest of the world could see it too, and I knew that if they cared enough to get dressed up, they wanted to be seen as looking nice.
Like all cab companies, we do parcel delivery. One day, I got a parcel going to a place called the coalition for the aging, or some such thing. It looked harmless enough. A do gooder outfit for the elderly. When I went in, I got my package signed for, and I mentioned these 2 ladies, and their dirty clothes to this guy who was getting the parcel. I asked him, if there was any anonymous way I could offer to take their clothes to the cleaner. I was a fool. He said, he could arrange for it, where did they live? So, I told him.
I never saw the Glitter Twins again. Not long after that, there was a for sale sign in the front yard of the house, across from the big Catholic church. I pulled into the driveway, and looked, sure enough, the house was empty. Soon the house was sold, and a new family moved in. No rationalization will ever make it ok, this was the worst thing I ever did as a cab driver. The old folks police got the Glitter Twins, and it was my fault.
Any time I get an elderly person who stinks, or a habitual drunk who stinks, or anybody with similar issues, I think of the Glitter Twins. It makes it easier to smile and offer to help them get from the cab to the door.
I distinctly recall the navy blue 3 piece suit, one of them wore. It was covered with spills, probably years of spills, coffee, food, and just normal daily wear dirt. It was a very nice, very elegant, wool suit, but it was soiled beyond imagination. It didn't smell good either, but that's ok, if and when I'm in my 90's, I hope the fashion police will look the other way and turn a blind nose.
I liked these 2 ladies. We all liked these 2 ladies. Passengers don't get nicknames like, The Glitter Twins, unless we like them.
I thought about those Sunday dress up outfits for quite a while, 6 months perhaps. What I really wanted to do was to say to them, 'Ladies, could I come by on Monday and take your suits to the cleaners? I'll take them to the cleaners. I'll pick them up and return them to you when the cleaner is finished with them. I'll even pay the fee to make them look like new. May I, please?' I knew I couldn't do this because, if they complained that some cab driver had implied that they were unkempt, dirty, and they stunk, Roy Boy would be really upset. Rightfully so too. You don't go around telling regular passengers, who are favorites, that they're not wonderful to have in the cab. And, it wasn't that they weren't wonderful. It was that if I could see that they were wearing dirty clothes, the rest of the world could see it too, and I knew that if they cared enough to get dressed up, they wanted to be seen as looking nice.
Like all cab companies, we do parcel delivery. One day, I got a parcel going to a place called the coalition for the aging, or some such thing. It looked harmless enough. A do gooder outfit for the elderly. When I went in, I got my package signed for, and I mentioned these 2 ladies, and their dirty clothes to this guy who was getting the parcel. I asked him, if there was any anonymous way I could offer to take their clothes to the cleaner. I was a fool. He said, he could arrange for it, where did they live? So, I told him.
I never saw the Glitter Twins again. Not long after that, there was a for sale sign in the front yard of the house, across from the big Catholic church. I pulled into the driveway, and looked, sure enough, the house was empty. Soon the house was sold, and a new family moved in. No rationalization will ever make it ok, this was the worst thing I ever did as a cab driver. The old folks police got the Glitter Twins, and it was my fault.
Any time I get an elderly person who stinks, or a habitual drunk who stinks, or anybody with similar issues, I think of the Glitter Twins. It makes it easier to smile and offer to help them get from the cab to the door.
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