I may have to get a life. I may have lost the one I have. See, last week, I had this little medical issue that resulted in a doctor saying I can't drive for 6 months. I didn't do anything wrong, like getting busted for driving under the influence, tickets, wreaks, nothing. And just like that, without any hope of appeal, no day in court, nothing, I lose not only a source of income, but worse yet, all the people I hold dear. Poof, just like that.
Roy Boy (bless that man) told me that after 6 months, if I get a medical ok, I can come back. Roy's always been as good as his word, but I'll believe it when I see it. It's not that Roy would stand in my way, it's more like another doctor could. There are some other things I'm not supposed to do, like riding a bicycle. Imagine, being told you can't ride a bicycle. For the time being, I'll be glad when I could ride a bike, which makes me wonder if I could ride one now. I don't have the ambition to shag mine out of the basement to find out this afternoon, but it certainly will go on the to do list, near the top. Why wouldn't I be able to ride one? My knees.
What happened to my knees? I'm not quite sure, but they sure do hurt. I couldn't walk at all for about 3 days, and now I can walk a little, but it's like I became elderly over night. The more I walk, and it really hurts bad to do so, the easier it gets next time. However, for now, 100 yards is a long long way. I can do it, but it takes a while. Getting old is a real drag!
If any of you out there are into praying (I'm not), at the top of my wish list is that Roy will let me work for the company training drivers, or answering phones, or something. In the past, a number of people in the office have wound up in the office because they had too many tickets or accidents, or even drunk driving. Which makes me think of Gumby, or Janitor Jim as he's called.
Back when he was a driver, he was The King, or King James. Then when he went to work for the University he became Gumby because he used his health insurance to have all those rotten teeth pulled out, and Janitor Jim because that's what he does at the University. The reason he went to work for the University was the DOT called up the cab company and told them not to even let him walk through the parking lot when he had his 3rd drunk driving pending against him. Imagine, 3 drunk drivings pending at once! First one, he decided to sleep in a parked car in a bar parking lot, second one I forget but it was silly, third one he and a friend were coming back from Lake Mills and his friend had to puke and Jim wouldn't pull over so his friend kicked the window out, and some truck driver called the cops.
Anyway, Jimmy used to dispatch on Saturday nights some, until he got pissed off at the company and decided he didn't want to come back.
If they let me work there I'm going to kiss dirty tile in the middle of the floor in the drivers room before I do anything else, and thank god for giving me back my family.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Ha ha ha, lets load up and deal with this later.
Last night, this complete idiot from the company with the silver cabs, sideswiped my cab in the cab stand at the air port. I'm supposed to smile and say, oh that's ok, don't worry about it? I don't think so.
There's more than pleanty for everybody. There's a passenger for every seat in every cab in the cab stand at the airport, but the fools from the grey/silver cab company aren't happy with pleanty. They gotta have more.
There's more than pleanty for everybody. There's a passenger for every seat in every cab in the cab stand at the airport, but the fools from the grey/silver cab company aren't happy with pleanty. They gotta have more.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
March madness
It happens every spring. First there is wrestling, then hockey, then girls basket ball, then boys basketball. The spring tournments in Madison. Wrestling was last weekend, hockey starts today, and I should be biting the bullet and driving tonight, but I'm not, I'm sitting here goofing off, writing, and trying to figgure out how I'm going to beat the stock market.
March is a good time to get hurt real bad driving cab. How so? Drunk drivers. Why March? Well, all these bozo's from up norte come down to Madison to cheer for their favorite high school jocks, and get drunk, and basicly act out. Then after they get a good snoot full, they get in their car in a strange city full of one way streets and poof, they're going the wrong way on a one way street. It's not driving on the one way street that is the most dangerous part of all this, it's when they realize they're doing it and whip on to a side street. Imagine you're sitting at the intersection of a 2 way street and a one way street, the light changes, you start through the intersection, and some drunk moron coming down that one way street from the wrong direction t-bones you because there's on red light on that side of the intersection. Just such a moron almost got me at the intersection of Fairchild and W. Washington. Just as I'm entering the 200 block of W. Washington, this idiot comes flying past my drivers window, and goes off weaving down West Wash. Where did he come from? I knew where he came from, of course, but I never even saw him. How fast did he have to be going for me to not have seen him coming? It's not a comfortable thought, that collision would have been on the drivers side.
How many cars did I see last weekend driving the wrong way on a one way street? 5.
March is a good time to get hurt real bad driving cab. How so? Drunk drivers. Why March? Well, all these bozo's from up norte come down to Madison to cheer for their favorite high school jocks, and get drunk, and basicly act out. Then after they get a good snoot full, they get in their car in a strange city full of one way streets and poof, they're going the wrong way on a one way street. It's not driving on the one way street that is the most dangerous part of all this, it's when they realize they're doing it and whip on to a side street. Imagine you're sitting at the intersection of a 2 way street and a one way street, the light changes, you start through the intersection, and some drunk moron coming down that one way street from the wrong direction t-bones you because there's on red light on that side of the intersection. Just such a moron almost got me at the intersection of Fairchild and W. Washington. Just as I'm entering the 200 block of W. Washington, this idiot comes flying past my drivers window, and goes off weaving down West Wash. Where did he come from? I knew where he came from, of course, but I never even saw him. How fast did he have to be going for me to not have seen him coming? It's not a comfortable thought, that collision would have been on the drivers side.
How many cars did I see last weekend driving the wrong way on a one way street? 5.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Kansas
Is your pet peeve being told what route to take? Perhaps having someone fire up a cigarette. Someone using the cab as a phone booth and insisting you turn the cab radio down because it's interfering with their phone call?
I don't like being touched. Imagine some random member of the public reaching out and touching you, literally. Sound like fun? Passengers wonder why they're supposed to sit in the back seat on the passenger side, well it's polite. However, we have many impolite passengers. The most common circumstances of being touched by a passenger are sex and pure obnoxiousness, it's usually just something that will simply make your day, the actually dangerous times are pretty rare.
On Tuesday, I was picking up someone at Method One, a great ride, great money. No, you can't smoke in the cab, no you can't smoke in the cab after we clear the city limits, NO I'm not another cab driver, and no I don't care what other cab drivers have let you do in the past.
While we're at it, my name isn't Kansas. On occasion people call me that, thinking that's what they heard, when they asked me what my name was, and I'd taken this passenger to Method One once before in the past. This particular passenger wanted to sit in the front seat, so I allowed it, I didn't have a good reason to refuse. However this reaching out and running your fingers through my hair, is NOT appreciated. That is how the ride began.
I haven't been propositioned by a passenger in a while, and it doesn't happen very often, but it is one of the occupational hazards of the job. Ah, I'm very involved with my dog and he's very jealous thank you very much. (As a former smoker I'd NEVER consider getting involved with a smoker anyhow, it's the kiss of death for remaining a non smoker.) Am I like Ru Paul? Ah, no, absolutely not. Jesus, am I glad I get rid of this squirrel in 10 more minutes! And it went like that for the rest of the ride.
The upside of it is, I got a line on when this person goes, and as Chas would say, information is the name of the game on the day shift. I drive a few day shifts, I'll spend 4 or 5 months driving days this spring and summer. I got a line on another really good ride too, but otherwise, that shift sucked the fat off dead bears butts.
Upside? Yeah. The money for the ride is good enough, that I've got to simply ignore the rest of the BS. I will take that passenger again, many times.
I don't like being touched. Imagine some random member of the public reaching out and touching you, literally. Sound like fun? Passengers wonder why they're supposed to sit in the back seat on the passenger side, well it's polite. However, we have many impolite passengers. The most common circumstances of being touched by a passenger are sex and pure obnoxiousness, it's usually just something that will simply make your day, the actually dangerous times are pretty rare.
On Tuesday, I was picking up someone at Method One, a great ride, great money. No, you can't smoke in the cab, no you can't smoke in the cab after we clear the city limits, NO I'm not another cab driver, and no I don't care what other cab drivers have let you do in the past.
While we're at it, my name isn't Kansas. On occasion people call me that, thinking that's what they heard, when they asked me what my name was, and I'd taken this passenger to Method One once before in the past. This particular passenger wanted to sit in the front seat, so I allowed it, I didn't have a good reason to refuse. However this reaching out and running your fingers through my hair, is NOT appreciated. That is how the ride began.
I haven't been propositioned by a passenger in a while, and it doesn't happen very often, but it is one of the occupational hazards of the job. Ah, I'm very involved with my dog and he's very jealous thank you very much. (As a former smoker I'd NEVER consider getting involved with a smoker anyhow, it's the kiss of death for remaining a non smoker.) Am I like Ru Paul? Ah, no, absolutely not. Jesus, am I glad I get rid of this squirrel in 10 more minutes! And it went like that for the rest of the ride.
The upside of it is, I got a line on when this person goes, and as Chas would say, information is the name of the game on the day shift. I drive a few day shifts, I'll spend 4 or 5 months driving days this spring and summer. I got a line on another really good ride too, but otherwise, that shift sucked the fat off dead bears butts.
Upside? Yeah. The money for the ride is good enough, that I've got to simply ignore the rest of the BS. I will take that passenger again, many times.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Fairies
Or is it faeries? I guess it depends on which spelling you like. Some people doubt their existence, not me.
In his opening monologue, Travis said he'd take anybody anywhere, including whores, faeries (pronounced fahhh-reeeeeeees), and minorities. The faeries Travis had in mind were probably silly little nellies. The person who wrote the dialog was probably overly influenced by the insulting value of calling someone a faerie, when it's a reference to sexual preference. I suppose some faeries are gay, but being a faerie comes first, sexual preference is another matter.
I had a true faerie in my cab yesterday. I know one when I see one. They're pretty rare, and like seeing a gold finch in the spring time, I notice.
Years ago, there was this little Mexican guy named John who was a regular. His ride was always The Shamrock to The New Bar, both gay bars. John would probably strike most people as a classic faerie, but in my mind he was just an obnoxious little fag, not a faerie. He was small, 5'4" perhaps, 25-35 years old, spoke unaccented English, and was fairly dark brown with black hair. He always wore this Saturday Night Fever type costume, for him it was a white cowboy costume. He always had to sit in the front seat. Sitting in the front seat isn't usually a big deal, but he ALWAYS put his hand on my thigh, and I don't like being touched by passengers in general, so that was really unwelcome. At first, I'd twist his arm as far as I figured I could, short of breaking it. He never said anything, I guess he had high pain tolerance, but if I'd broken his arm I'd have been in a lot of trouble, so there was a limit to how far I could twist it. Kate over at Union Cab had her arm in a cast for a year over a radial fracture she got from a passenger, and he got a few years in jail for doing it. Finally, I started refusing to let this bozo in the front seat, and he'd refuse to get in the cab at all. Then he'd call and ask for another cab, and we'd send him one. Kind of makes you want to scream in frustration. This went on until his cousin Bobby was in the cab one night, and I told Bobby about it. Bobby was gay too, and he said he was terribly embarrassed. After that, John behaved. John and Bobby, I wonder what ever became of them. One or both of them probably ended up with some mama sita(s), and have kids. I'm pretty realistic, and pretty cynical, it's the way of the world.
I've only ever seen one faerie who wasn't considered developmentally challenged or mentally ill. He was (is?) an engineering graduate student from India. When he danced through the basement of General Engineering in the wee hours of the morning, he had the same graceful fluttery quality of a luna moth. I'm sure he'd simply say he was a happy guy, and things were going his way, at the moment. Nah.............. He has magic. Someday I'll pick up some cute little electronic marvel (like todays cell phones), it will be his magic that made it possible, and he'll still be dancing down the hall of his high tech frim in the wee hours of the morning.
The faerie I had yesterday is what they call a special needs passenger. He is attended 24 hours a day by somebody, and I'm sure they have some kind of label for him like autism. I wish I could get a video of him that I could submit to casting agents, and writers. Of course the people he has attending him, we call them beast keepers, won't ever recognise that magic. I don't know if I could stand having him around for more than an hour or so, he's a pretty high energy guy, but I want him in my cab a few more times. I want to watch that magic coming out of him enough times to be able to put it down on paper.
In his opening monologue, Travis said he'd take anybody anywhere, including whores, faeries (pronounced fahhh-reeeeeeees), and minorities. The faeries Travis had in mind were probably silly little nellies. The person who wrote the dialog was probably overly influenced by the insulting value of calling someone a faerie, when it's a reference to sexual preference. I suppose some faeries are gay, but being a faerie comes first, sexual preference is another matter.
I had a true faerie in my cab yesterday. I know one when I see one. They're pretty rare, and like seeing a gold finch in the spring time, I notice.
Years ago, there was this little Mexican guy named John who was a regular. His ride was always The Shamrock to The New Bar, both gay bars. John would probably strike most people as a classic faerie, but in my mind he was just an obnoxious little fag, not a faerie. He was small, 5'4" perhaps, 25-35 years old, spoke unaccented English, and was fairly dark brown with black hair. He always wore this Saturday Night Fever type costume, for him it was a white cowboy costume. He always had to sit in the front seat. Sitting in the front seat isn't usually a big deal, but he ALWAYS put his hand on my thigh, and I don't like being touched by passengers in general, so that was really unwelcome. At first, I'd twist his arm as far as I figured I could, short of breaking it. He never said anything, I guess he had high pain tolerance, but if I'd broken his arm I'd have been in a lot of trouble, so there was a limit to how far I could twist it. Kate over at Union Cab had her arm in a cast for a year over a radial fracture she got from a passenger, and he got a few years in jail for doing it. Finally, I started refusing to let this bozo in the front seat, and he'd refuse to get in the cab at all. Then he'd call and ask for another cab, and we'd send him one. Kind of makes you want to scream in frustration. This went on until his cousin Bobby was in the cab one night, and I told Bobby about it. Bobby was gay too, and he said he was terribly embarrassed. After that, John behaved. John and Bobby, I wonder what ever became of them. One or both of them probably ended up with some mama sita(s), and have kids. I'm pretty realistic, and pretty cynical, it's the way of the world.
I've only ever seen one faerie who wasn't considered developmentally challenged or mentally ill. He was (is?) an engineering graduate student from India. When he danced through the basement of General Engineering in the wee hours of the morning, he had the same graceful fluttery quality of a luna moth. I'm sure he'd simply say he was a happy guy, and things were going his way, at the moment. Nah.............. He has magic. Someday I'll pick up some cute little electronic marvel (like todays cell phones), it will be his magic that made it possible, and he'll still be dancing down the hall of his high tech frim in the wee hours of the morning.
The faerie I had yesterday is what they call a special needs passenger. He is attended 24 hours a day by somebody, and I'm sure they have some kind of label for him like autism. I wish I could get a video of him that I could submit to casting agents, and writers. Of course the people he has attending him, we call them beast keepers, won't ever recognise that magic. I don't know if I could stand having him around for more than an hour or so, he's a pretty high energy guy, but I want him in my cab a few more times. I want to watch that magic coming out of him enough times to be able to put it down on paper.
Monday, February 23, 2009
You can choose your friends, but not your family
For the most part, the cab people are my family. My dog is my spousal equivilent. Like most families there are members who move away, or stop coming around. Those you like better, those you don't like at all, those who die............ We even have some people who are kind of like that guy on the other side of Tim's fence, the guy you never see, who gives him advice, they're usually passengers, and like him, some of them are very dear to us.
Boyle is leaving, said he can't work after the 28th. He, Mark A., and the famous Don will now, all be just ghosts in my memory. Not that any of them mattered much to me, they didn't.
I see J.C. every so often, if you didn't know he'll never work again, you might think he's just another guy in the grocery store. He even recovered enough to play golf again. Car accident. Boom, and Jim Bob on the other hand, they both came to work and died one night (different nights). I wonder if I should envy them, I've always said I don't want to feel it, and I don't want to see it coming, so they died the way I've always said I want to die.
When Rob came back, I made a point of telling him I was really glad he was back. He took it totally wrong. I had to assure him that he was simply one of us, and I miss any of us who leave, which isn't entirely true, there are some of us I wouldn't miss. I was glad to see Rob back in the drivers room. As long as Rob is around, no one can seriously accuse me of being the most abrasive, obnoxious driver, so I've got to like having the guy around. If you wonder which driver he is, he's the guy with the medic's paratrooper wings.
Enough of being maudlin............ Onward through the fog.
I ran into a couple of the Bradley Hall girls Saturday night, going to the party house, of course. They remembered me, and reminded me that I'd tutored them on the crude side of insulting people. They wanted more!!!! The one girl even proudly told me she'd slapped a frat boy recently, and she wanted an atta boy for it. I immediately pointed out that doing that kind of thing is a, did you get away with it, kind of thing. Get away with it, she asked? Yeah, if the guy didn't slug you back, you got away with it. Always remember, on occasion, they do swing back.
The best I could do, when it came to a new clever comment, was the classic reply to a man (or boy) who says, 'I tried.' That reply of course is, "Yeah, you tried like an old steer."
She didn't get it, at all. She didn't even know what a steer is. Well, a steer is a bull that's been neutered. Like a dog gets neutered. You know, no nads, now you get it? A steer, especially an old one, could try, but.......... AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Now she got it, she'd be telling the guy he couldn't even shoot blanks. Now she and her friend laughed loudly. The worst part of some cute girl telling some guy he tried like an old steer would be when he didn't get it, and she was explaining the insult to him. Can't you just picture the kid turning about 3 shades of crimson?
Passengers ask me how they become a memory. They all want to think they can stick in my memory for doing something as common as wetting their pants or barfing. Nahhhhhhhhh. The girl who wants to become a bad girl, who lives in Bradley Hall, has made the grade, her I will remember.
Back to family members who are gone. I will finish with a memory of 2 more passengers. Eric and Heather lived out at Manchester and McKee. They both had work rides, and both of those work rides started real good morning runs, so I used to sit on both of those rides. 5 days a week, I'd go out there with a cup of coffee and a Wall Street Journal, and wait 30 minutes for Heather's ride to kick off my day shift. I got to know them quite well, well enough that when they got married, I got invited to the wedding.
Eric and Heather's Madison wedding reception was a society affair held in the best ballroom in the Concourse. I believe the Concourse comp'ed the reception, it probably cost upwards of 10 grand to throw. Everybody who was anybody in Madison showed up. At least 500 people attended, perhaps not all at the same time. The actual wedding was held on a cruise ship in the Miami, Florida harbor, there were only 32 people including the bride and groom present for it. One of the local TV stations actually sent a crew to film that wedding. They spent more time filming my roomate and I than they did filming the bride and groom, but there's no accounting for taste. Eric told me that he was really really greatful to my roomate and I for coming. He said that for once nobody was staring at him, they were all staring at Willow and I, and he was tired of people staring at him. What Eric must know by now, is that after a while, you stop noticing when people stare at you.
I miss Eric and Heather. Someone told me that they moved to Texas because the cold weather was so hard on them, and that inspite of medical advice that she should never get pregant, Heather and Eric had a baby. Part of the family who moved away.................
Boyle is leaving, said he can't work after the 28th. He, Mark A., and the famous Don will now, all be just ghosts in my memory. Not that any of them mattered much to me, they didn't.
I see J.C. every so often, if you didn't know he'll never work again, you might think he's just another guy in the grocery store. He even recovered enough to play golf again. Car accident. Boom, and Jim Bob on the other hand, they both came to work and died one night (different nights). I wonder if I should envy them, I've always said I don't want to feel it, and I don't want to see it coming, so they died the way I've always said I want to die.
When Rob came back, I made a point of telling him I was really glad he was back. He took it totally wrong. I had to assure him that he was simply one of us, and I miss any of us who leave, which isn't entirely true, there are some of us I wouldn't miss. I was glad to see Rob back in the drivers room. As long as Rob is around, no one can seriously accuse me of being the most abrasive, obnoxious driver, so I've got to like having the guy around. If you wonder which driver he is, he's the guy with the medic's paratrooper wings.
Enough of being maudlin............ Onward through the fog.
I ran into a couple of the Bradley Hall girls Saturday night, going to the party house, of course. They remembered me, and reminded me that I'd tutored them on the crude side of insulting people. They wanted more!!!! The one girl even proudly told me she'd slapped a frat boy recently, and she wanted an atta boy for it. I immediately pointed out that doing that kind of thing is a, did you get away with it, kind of thing. Get away with it, she asked? Yeah, if the guy didn't slug you back, you got away with it. Always remember, on occasion, they do swing back.
The best I could do, when it came to a new clever comment, was the classic reply to a man (or boy) who says, 'I tried.' That reply of course is, "Yeah, you tried like an old steer."
She didn't get it, at all. She didn't even know what a steer is. Well, a steer is a bull that's been neutered. Like a dog gets neutered. You know, no nads, now you get it? A steer, especially an old one, could try, but.......... AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Now she got it, she'd be telling the guy he couldn't even shoot blanks. Now she and her friend laughed loudly. The worst part of some cute girl telling some guy he tried like an old steer would be when he didn't get it, and she was explaining the insult to him. Can't you just picture the kid turning about 3 shades of crimson?
Passengers ask me how they become a memory. They all want to think they can stick in my memory for doing something as common as wetting their pants or barfing. Nahhhhhhhhh. The girl who wants to become a bad girl, who lives in Bradley Hall, has made the grade, her I will remember.
Back to family members who are gone. I will finish with a memory of 2 more passengers. Eric and Heather lived out at Manchester and McKee. They both had work rides, and both of those work rides started real good morning runs, so I used to sit on both of those rides. 5 days a week, I'd go out there with a cup of coffee and a Wall Street Journal, and wait 30 minutes for Heather's ride to kick off my day shift. I got to know them quite well, well enough that when they got married, I got invited to the wedding.
Eric and Heather's Madison wedding reception was a society affair held in the best ballroom in the Concourse. I believe the Concourse comp'ed the reception, it probably cost upwards of 10 grand to throw. Everybody who was anybody in Madison showed up. At least 500 people attended, perhaps not all at the same time. The actual wedding was held on a cruise ship in the Miami, Florida harbor, there were only 32 people including the bride and groom present for it. One of the local TV stations actually sent a crew to film that wedding. They spent more time filming my roomate and I than they did filming the bride and groom, but there's no accounting for taste. Eric told me that he was really really greatful to my roomate and I for coming. He said that for once nobody was staring at him, they were all staring at Willow and I, and he was tired of people staring at him. What Eric must know by now, is that after a while, you stop noticing when people stare at you.
I miss Eric and Heather. Someone told me that they moved to Texas because the cold weather was so hard on them, and that inspite of medical advice that she should never get pregant, Heather and Eric had a baby. Part of the family who moved away.................
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Valentines Day
Yesterday was Valentines Day. Every Valentines Day should be a Saturday, it was the first night that the students really went out since school started. It's like the worlds economic downturn went on vacation for a day.
I won't make a cent today. I had a personal emergency, and I'm losing over an hour taking care of it. Thank god it's only a personal emergency, it could have been worse, and there are definately worse things that can happen than not making any money for a shift.
I frequently have candidates for the ultimate dumb and dumber pair. Friday night I had a couple of guys who will never get in my cab again who definately are in the running. People have to be pretty bad usually to be memorable, and these guys were definately memorable. PERFICT examples of why I NEVER take people through a drive through for drunk food. I did, because doing so put me up for a $15 fitter (we are a shared ride cab) that the dispatcher would have said I had no reason to be any where near otherwise. The lady who was the fitting ride was very nice, tipped well, and the 2 guys who got Taco Bell were, well, pigs. Oh well. I had a total of 5 people on Friday who will never get in my cab again, that's a lot for a single shift.
In addition to the 2 I just mentioned, there were the very first passengers of the shift. An old woman and her daughter I'd guess, they went from a cheap oriental buffet to a crappy neighborhood, and wanted to be dropped off at different places for the same price as if they went to the same place. I told them I wouldn't do that, and they got pretty upset, "Well other cab drivers do............" Lady, I'm not other cab drivers. I treat EVERYBODY the same, everybody! If I stated saying well you're an old lady so I'll give you a break, then I'd have to start saying that black guy looks scruffy so I need to get cash up front, which might offend him, and so on, so the way it works is everybody gets treated the same. At this point the daughter in the back seat said with that indignant tone in her voice, "Are you calling me old?" They were, quite simply, nothing but trouble. As the old woman paid, no tip, she said in a nasty tone of voice, "I'm not paying extra just so it can go into your pocket." Then she said she'd never ride with me again. Cool, she watches for me, I watch for her, and we never cross paths again. That brings up the total to 4, there is one more.
The one more was a MA ride. What's an MA ride? It's a charge to a hospital or county or city agency that pays for rides for the poor. MA=Medical Assistance. If my dispatcher gives me an MA ride to do, I'm the only one who can turn in the paper to get paid for the ride. I got to this psychiatric clinic and this woman comes out and says, "This cab better be for So-And-So!!!" She plunks her butt down in the front seat and starts on a long rag about how she's been waiting for a ride for 2 hours, and that bastard in the cab in front of me wouldn't take her inspite of the fact that he's been sitting there for a long time. My good friend Ham Dinger was the driver in that cab, and he couldn't have taken her if he'd wanted to, he'd never get paid for the ride, not to mention he was waiting for his own looney that he had paperwork for. I tried to tell this woman that if she was a cash customer Ham Dinger could have taken her, if he'd wanted to, but she wasn't a cash customer so I was the only one who could do her ride. Then she went on a bigger rag about how an MA ride was as good as a cash ride, which is irrelevant, and I finally told her as politely as possible to SHUT UP. Then I took her to a subsidized apartment building. She doesn't pay her own rent, doesn't pay her own cab fare, no doubt doesn't pay her shrink, and I think she should be a bag lady, instead of a well fed, middle class, leach on society. What was it Billy Joel (or was it Harry Chapin.... nah, Billy) said in the old song, "You should never argue with a crazy man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man. You ought to know by now! ...................................... If that's all you get for your money!"
Lady, you'll never get in my cab again, MA ride or no MA ride. If you want her name, so you can avoid her too, ask me in the drivers room, for obvious reasons, I can't put her name here.
I won't make a cent today. I had a personal emergency, and I'm losing over an hour taking care of it. Thank god it's only a personal emergency, it could have been worse, and there are definately worse things that can happen than not making any money for a shift.
I frequently have candidates for the ultimate dumb and dumber pair. Friday night I had a couple of guys who will never get in my cab again who definately are in the running. People have to be pretty bad usually to be memorable, and these guys were definately memorable. PERFICT examples of why I NEVER take people through a drive through for drunk food. I did, because doing so put me up for a $15 fitter (we are a shared ride cab) that the dispatcher would have said I had no reason to be any where near otherwise. The lady who was the fitting ride was very nice, tipped well, and the 2 guys who got Taco Bell were, well, pigs. Oh well. I had a total of 5 people on Friday who will never get in my cab again, that's a lot for a single shift.
In addition to the 2 I just mentioned, there were the very first passengers of the shift. An old woman and her daughter I'd guess, they went from a cheap oriental buffet to a crappy neighborhood, and wanted to be dropped off at different places for the same price as if they went to the same place. I told them I wouldn't do that, and they got pretty upset, "Well other cab drivers do............" Lady, I'm not other cab drivers. I treat EVERYBODY the same, everybody! If I stated saying well you're an old lady so I'll give you a break, then I'd have to start saying that black guy looks scruffy so I need to get cash up front, which might offend him, and so on, so the way it works is everybody gets treated the same. At this point the daughter in the back seat said with that indignant tone in her voice, "Are you calling me old?" They were, quite simply, nothing but trouble. As the old woman paid, no tip, she said in a nasty tone of voice, "I'm not paying extra just so it can go into your pocket." Then she said she'd never ride with me again. Cool, she watches for me, I watch for her, and we never cross paths again. That brings up the total to 4, there is one more.
The one more was a MA ride. What's an MA ride? It's a charge to a hospital or county or city agency that pays for rides for the poor. MA=Medical Assistance. If my dispatcher gives me an MA ride to do, I'm the only one who can turn in the paper to get paid for the ride. I got to this psychiatric clinic and this woman comes out and says, "This cab better be for So-And-So!!!" She plunks her butt down in the front seat and starts on a long rag about how she's been waiting for a ride for 2 hours, and that bastard in the cab in front of me wouldn't take her inspite of the fact that he's been sitting there for a long time. My good friend Ham Dinger was the driver in that cab, and he couldn't have taken her if he'd wanted to, he'd never get paid for the ride, not to mention he was waiting for his own looney that he had paperwork for. I tried to tell this woman that if she was a cash customer Ham Dinger could have taken her, if he'd wanted to, but she wasn't a cash customer so I was the only one who could do her ride. Then she went on a bigger rag about how an MA ride was as good as a cash ride, which is irrelevant, and I finally told her as politely as possible to SHUT UP. Then I took her to a subsidized apartment building. She doesn't pay her own rent, doesn't pay her own cab fare, no doubt doesn't pay her shrink, and I think she should be a bag lady, instead of a well fed, middle class, leach on society. What was it Billy Joel (or was it Harry Chapin.... nah, Billy) said in the old song, "You should never argue with a crazy man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man. You ought to know by now! ...................................... If that's all you get for your money!"
Lady, you'll never get in my cab again, MA ride or no MA ride. If you want her name, so you can avoid her too, ask me in the drivers room, for obvious reasons, I can't put her name here.
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