Lost an Found

People leave a lot in my cabs. Cell phones and keys are the most common. Last night an original painting was left. I later found out it was a $2000 portrait of Irish Revolutionary, Michael Collins. I knew where the guy lived, but it was real far away. I had driven out there twice, once with him, when he forgot the painting, and again with his car. I did not fin the painting until I was leaving my cab to go inside my house. The guy was not a goo tipper, but he was fairly prominent. Most importantly I knew where he drank. So I decided I would drop it by there so I would not have to drive out to the next county with it.
I was on my way to pick up the bar's owner, who is a regular and he recognized the painting right away. He said the man had been wondering about it earlier. I offered to bring it in then and there, but the customer asked me to wait until I returned. The passenger that left it did not remember getting home the night before. I had insisted he take my number as he has entrusted me with his keys to shuttle his car home later that night. But the scribbled name an number probably meant nothing to him. I brought it in, and I think the whole bar cheered. It was a good thing. But I will say this, had he been a better tipper, I'd have brought it to his home without hesitation.

notorious

ALA Librarian Sues Robbers for Assault: "Librarian Sues Robbers for Assault
A librarian at Transylvania University in Lexington, Kentucky, who was shot with a stun gun, tied up, and blindfolded during a robbery of rare books and artworks has sued the four men who admitted to the theft.
Special Collections Librarian Betty Jean Gooch filed the lawsuit November 1 in Fayette County Circuit Court, claiming the men assaulted, battered, and falsely imprisoned her. She is seeking damages for physical, mental, and emotional suffering, as well as medical expenses and lost wages, the Lexington Herald-Leader reported November 2.

This has been a traumatic ordeal for her, said Lee Roland, Gooch's attorney.
The four former college students pleaded guilty in U.S. District Court April 21 to the December 2004 robbery. Sentencing is scheduled for December 6. Because they assaulted Gooch during the theft, they face a maximum of 75 years in prison and over $1 million in fines.
The stolen works, which included an 1859 first edition of Darwin's The Origin of Species and 20 pencil sketches by John James Audubon, were returned to the library after the men were arrested in February.
Posted November 4, 2005; modified November 18, 2005."

Diversity

I get a lot of opinions in my cab. From the overtly racist or sexist to the friendly or complimentary. I was driving my bank teller home from her wedding anniversry. They ate at the grand dame of downtown restaurants. There is one waiter that has been there for at least 15 years. Yes, he's gay.

She cheerfully described each course of the dinner with glowing compliments. I asked if they had the infamous [previously mentioned waiter]. She answered quickly with "no, we had a mousy young woman. We had hoped for a flaming gay waiter, because, We Love the Gays!".

How nice. I followed up with saying it was too bad it was so early because all the best female impersonation shows would not be starting for another hour. The husband chuckled uncomfortably and said, they'll have to make that another time.

Patron Saints

I saw five college guys walking back from what I assumed to be the Deja Vu strip club. It was 4:30 in the morning, and that club had been closed for 90 minutes or more.

I was right. They climbed in and complained about the competition, 231-TAXI and how they had been wating 5 hours for a taxi. Anyway, we were now on our way to campus, south on North Broadway. It was drizzling, and the roads were devoid of traffic. As I do sometime, I contemplated the best route in which to get off Broadway and over to Limestone St. There were plenty of inconsequential choices to be made. The most obvious was not allowed. That being left on West Vine.

With all that contemplation going on, and answering the unending banter of the boys, I did not see a light turn red in time to stop on the slick pavement.

As I slam on my breaks and realize I was going to skid through the intersection, I see a Garbage truck accelerating toward the intersection from the right on the cross street. It had the green light afterall. The garbage truck traffic had been my whole reason for pondering the best route, as the narrow downtown streets can become quite clogged with the trucks in the wee hours of the morning.

So here I am, full to capacity with 4 college boys, skidding toward the middle of an intersection with a 2 ton garbage truck approaching from the right. Not able to stop, I also realized my tires would spin if I gunned it. when the truck was within feet of us, it veered to the left north on broadway, I veered my car left onto the cross street in a wide counterclockwise arc. I straightened our direction and continued in that direction, and saw through my rearview window the truck had done the same.

My passengers were understandable shaken and wanted to get home, so I kept going. I wondered at the time if I had left the scene of an accident. I hope not, because that is bad.

Through the truck drivers and my respnse, we were able to avoid a very nasty and possibly fatal collision. There were five in my car, and I think there are at least 3 or 4 in a garbage truck.

The entire scene played out like a Burt Reynold movie. Although if so, the garbage truck would have been a dump truck of manure I think.

In any case when I dropped the boys off, I did not charge them for the ride. I realize that was small compensation for almost disaster. But in a big way, I think the greater act was avoiding it, when it was inevitable. All the boys, and myself included were certain it was going to happen.

How many times can a person see his life flash before his eyes? My St. Christopher Medallion is doing its job well. I have had my permit clamped to my visor with a StC visor clip since I switched cab companies.

marble mouth

marble mouth

After a long night of driving, I was on my way home. I pulled into a huddle house to get a late night dinner, and an old man waved at me, mumbled and set himself down in my cab.

In an odd mixture of;
the "ep ep ep" guy from David Lee Roth's "Just a Gigalo" video,
"Mushmouth" from Fat Albert
and Nurse Diesel from High Anxiety,
he stated:
"Blah MMPH grr blea" I calmly stated I could not understand him, and in the interest of typological brevity, I am going to start a shorthand for his auditory goblittygook. [blah10] is 10 syllables of gibberish.

Me: I am sorry where do you need to go?
him: [blah25]
me: I'm sorry?
him:[blah10] new [blah7] new town [blah10] new town pike
me: new town pike?
him:[blah2]

I started toward new town pike, a road of approximately 5 urban miles and untold distance after. I shudder to think where this will go.

Me: Just tell me where to stop
him:[Blah10] new town pike [blah5]!
me: yes, I know were to go first, but not how far...
him: [blah25] talk [blah5] cab [blah157]
me (silently to myself...) [blah15]...sigh

fortunately it was only a [blah3] blocks.

craziness

The students are back. with a vengence.

One night 12 frat and sorority types climbed in my van. We dropped the girls`off and som basketball players were in the car in front of us. Eventually they were blocking the one lane roadway. On of my boys recognized the player as from last year and cryed out "you suck". Apparently the guy finished and did not go pro and is fairly angry about it, because him and his friend went ballistic. It was a no fist fight and shouting match worthy of a late night street version of the Jerry Springer Show. But I was more like Dr. Phil. I was telling the boys to get back in my car, and the ball players to get in their car and leave, as I had called the campus police about the disturbance. Eventually, like when the light turns green in a chinese fire drill, everyonne got back in their cars, and we drove off, and I dropped my off at their frat house.

[this is a BASH related ride tale] Bash is the nick name for one of the frat guys I drive around. It was his roommate and bros, that were involved in the fight.

New Look

I picked up a cheap barn hat not too long ago, and it redifined my look. Its a wire rimed straw cowboy hat. I curled up the sides, and have subsequently grown a beard. For some reason it is filling a lot of peoples fantasies.

A few weeks ago, I was at a little sidewalk cafe hotspot, and some charles atlas guy was staring me down. He was sitting with two other guys I recognized, but was certain he was looking at Kim, the brunette next to me.

Everytime I glanced his way his eyes were boring right through me. As he left, he asked me if that was my cab behind me. When I agreed, he asked me if I had a card. "In case I ever need a ride", he said. That was unusual. It is not unusual for someone to ask for a ride in that way, but cards are usually asked for by people that either already know me, or have already ridden in my cab.

I suspected this guy was really just asking me for my number, and I stated as such to the table after I returned. And I was right. Not more than thirty minutes later did he call me and asked if I wanted to fool around.

I cannot commit to words how hot this guy is, and he was pursuing me. Needless to say, we made plans.

Bless me Blog, for I have sinned

Bless me Blog, for I have sinned.
Its been four weeks since my last confession.

I still love it. I said when I started I would probably buy a cab if I still liked it by this summer. We are screeching toward the first day of summer, and I think I have decided to take the plunge.

I'm buying a Medallion. OK, hey do not have Medallions in this town, but it is a pretty famous system of cab ownership. I ran my numbers and including taxes, insurance, permits and fees, I will save about $1000 a month in expenses. I can spend that $1000 a month on maintenance or car financing, and still largely come out ahead.

I will truly be my own boss. I may switch alegience to another company. There is an Owner-operator company that has fees that are half the rate of the company I am currently with. What will affect my decion is how much does the radio dispatch affect my bottom line. If it is the difference between this company and company b, then I am indifferent. If it is more than I should stay, less I shoudl leave. The other company does not have much number recognition in the cab calling public. But well over three quarters of my income comes from "signal tens" and cruising. Signal 10s are calls that come to me directly via my cell phone. I did talk to a driver for the other company, and found the radio is not a complete empty nest.

What car? I am trying to decide if I want a plain car or one that will stand out. I will be hard on it, it will be a working vehicle. I like having a van, but it would be nice to have a good cruiser too. I've noticed in the owner operator company, drivers are more apt to get somethign they want. One guy even drives an SUV. I have even toyed with the idea of a genuine London Cab.

Crash

I had my first accident today. It was, thankfully a non-injury accident. I expect the insurance cos. will find us equally at fault, despite my having the right of way. He was turning left from the oncoming lane. I was passing on the right, another car also turning left. Newither of us saw the other until it was too late. Because I was continuing through the intersection straight away, I had the right of way, it is legal to pass on the right to go around a car turning left. The other driver assumed the lane to the right of the car he was facing would only be making right turns. The driving behavior I exhibited was very common at that intersection. All the witnesses scattered. Especially the person in front of me making the left turn. The police/tow insurance process took about an hour, but I must say the cab company had a replacement vehicle for me by the time my car was towed to the yard.

It is, however chitty chitty bang bang. The horn goes off when you start it, that is, unless you have the headlights on. The gear arrows do not correspond with the lables. But at least they are in the same order. The crank monitor needs replacement, and they'll get that on monday.

type a type b

I have this running list of "two types of people" with a regular passenger. For example, people that let their dogs sleep in their bed with them, and those that are horrifed at the mere suggestion. "I think they let the dog sleep on the bed with them" they'll say in hushed tones.

As passengers, I realized last night there are two types of direction givers. The micro-managers, and the bottom liners. The Micro managers will give directions to such a small degree, I often have to interupt and just ask the end address. "Well, you go down main street, take a left on North Mount Tabor, and take a left in the K-mart parking lot" "So you want to go to K-Mart" "Yes, the garden center it is on the left side of the building, it has its own entrance". The other has such an inflated sense of self, as well as innate trust in cabbies internal GPS system, they will just announce their desitination, no matter how obscure. "I want to go to Subdivision, generica" "you now, by McDonald's" "on New Circle Road" That particular road is a 20 mile circle around the urban part of the county, with no less than 5 McDonalds within sight of it.

Somne times people seem incapable of telling me their address. They start to give directions. "Take a left". or "Just go forward, I'll tell you where to go". I hate that. My second night I had a guy say he needed to "just go down south broadway". At the edge of town South Broadway changes name and becomes a destination name road. His true destination was not on the broadway part of the road at all, but outside the county line. That started my destinartion demand at the beginning of each call.

Some people treat cabs like their own personal calf path, or wandering jew. They'll say "I just need to go to Wallgreen's. There, they announce they want me to wait for them while the shop, then bring up where they want to get food, then a return trip home. Sometimes I stack calls up. This means, if someone calls me when I am on the way to Wallgreen's, I will assume it is a one way to Wallgreen's and estimate my new pick up time for the second call.

People in the town rarely know how to hail a cab. Some just say "hey" or "wait!". I am kind of a stinker abotu it. I do not need the money as bad as some drivers, so I only respond to visible waves, or "Taxi!", a whistle, or human speed bumps.

The Cadre

Mother Jones did it, Cesar Chaves did it, and now I am doing it. Not a union per se and not a cartel either, I have joined a cadre. They do not term it such, but that is exactly what it is. Its a group of good cabbies that jointly market themselves as individuals to take care of the needs of customers. The eventual goal of some of them is to start their own cab company. At this point, I am using it like a referral service and a relief valve for my own overflow. They recruited me. Word within the group was that I had a lot of private business and that I am reliable, fair and trustworthy. So far so good, in that I made some decent money off the group last weekend and early this week.

Today I had breakfast with one of the thinkers in the group, and we discussed how many "Signal Tens" (10s) we had yesterday. First -- 10s are personal request calls. They are most often direct to your cell phone. I think in the olden days of dispatch only, callers were allowed to request certain drivers and the standard number codes were assigned to it, and 10 became that number. It is not unusual to hear the phrase "A ten of mine was out at Keeneland and I had to shoot him to (driver 66) and he totally ripped the guy off" Translation: "One of my regulars called me and I had to ask driver 66 to get him and he took them the long way home and ran up their fare". Anyway, yesterday was pretty slow. (driver)11 told me he had one 10 , and that 44 did too. I counted inm my head and counted 5 or more. This impressed him.

I even knocked off early and got ready for bed at 11 o'clock to watch Futurama. I got three calls after that, totalling $60. My daily lease payment is $65 plus $15 for insurance. I made that mucvh after I "quit" working for the day. of course I did not actually quit as I got out of bed to service the 10s that called me, but I was not out actively seeking work. My house is in such a central location I can, almost, sit on my porch and make a living just responding to direct ohone calls. Other drivers and the company are astounded by this. Granted the econonomics of my situation are unique in that I cannot work as much as the other guys, and my financial needs are much lower than the other guys because I am disabled and draw a check and have income limits. But fortunately for me I gain customers with ease, and had a ready made clientele with my associations with another super-cabby, my mentor, as well as a few cab hungry bars (LeSplat being one).

The sheer number of calls I get from my former customers at LeSplat almost insure my breaking even in the long run. I am also chipping away at my mentors base. Not actively, but when I am on time, and I am easier to get ahold of, and I match his discounts and I do not double up fares, people remember me. A few of them call me fist now, and several more call me first when he is gone regardless of who's number is on his recording. When I first started I was usually first on his recording with the statement, "I Highly recomend...". Now I am often fourth with no such lead in. But the ones I got before remember me and call me first. Some seem not to catre who gets him, they just remember my mentors phone number. It is painlessly easy to remember. Even the most drunk of riders can spit out a request for someone to call that number.

Some of the guys that call me have my number scribbled down on his card, and recognize it but do not remember much else. In any case, things are going good. I am making exactly the money I need, getting the rest I need, and most of all keeping active.

an introduction

my name is not louie. the name louie coems from the leslie chatres

SAINT

novels and stories. louie was a brookly cab driver. when i started, the cap i wore was a classic jeep drivers cap, much like a hack would have worn after the big one, dubya dubya 2.

anyway, I became disabled due to heart trouble over a year ago, and for several months searched for work that woudl fit in the limits I haqve from social swecurity and still make my budget shortfall form my disability check. this work was near perfect. it was largely stress free, schedule free, cash based and fit my short attention span perfectly.

i have done a lot, god knows i tried. I have worked in he service industry, academia, training, e-commerce, non-profits to named a few. i have found myself to be happiest in the service industry.

i am only in my early forties (41 to be exact) and look even younger. my disability status is not apparent at first glance, unless they see my scar peeking out from behind my shirt. even then, it looks like a childhood scar, it has healed so well. i thought an introduction is in order, and am going to backdate this. this was written may 11, 2005

Serving the community.

I have seen diatribes against cab drivers. They describe us as peter pans, never wanting to grow up or have a real job. That we want to extract every dollar out of our passengers, through any devious means possible.

I think that there are those types of men in almost any profession. I chose as my mentor someone that took a different path. He went the extra mile and became charitable to some degree. When he is on vacation, he has had me take care of some of his "special needs" passengers. That's what he calls them anyway.

One such woman is an 87 year old, on the brink of being institutionalized. Her building manager wants to make her leave because he believes she cannot take care of herself anymore. She drinks. Not too long ago she apparently fell and they had to break her chain on the door to help her. That prompted them to call the cab driver. I went along for the ride. I argued on her behalf with the manager and ulti9mately the owner. We agreed we would have her checked on to have a determination made as to her capacity.

Ultimately she would just as soon move as to be in that hell-hole anyway. I am going to try and find her a new place to live that is within her budget.

It is not unusual for a wheel chair bound MS patient to call me to pick up smokes or wine for her. Today we went to the bank with her in the car, but often I just bring her the stuff she needs. It works out best for both of us time wise. But she does like to get out of the house once in a while.

Downtown Driving Depravity

First off I should just blurt out I am bi. It makes the story 25% less shocking.

Ok, so I am at a strip club, getting a dancer's number to make plans for later, and my phone rings. Its a drunk guy wanting me to come downtown to bring his drunk friend home. I tell him it will be about 20 minutes, and I finish up business as best I can, with a "I'll be back in 30 minutes" and I am off down town.

I collect the guy. He's a handsome burly guy that appears to have been coiffed by the fab five. Tank MCnamara meets Carson Kressley. He's in my cab saying how tired he is. I tell him I am tired too, and his would probably be my last call. I did afterall have a potential date with a dancer later. About half-way to his house, he asks for my hand. I expect him to shake it or kiss it, both happen quite a bit in gratitude. But instead I found it encircling his wrist.

But it was not his wrist. I thought to myself, surely his wrist is not this average sized wrist of which I have in my hand, when I realized it was his thick cock in my hand. After a few more exploratory feels, I started moving my hand up and down to his groans. When we pulled up in front of his house, he somehow leapt up front. We started to kiss and I put my hand back down on it. Eventually I went down on him, chokingly. I took breaks explaining I had to go. He challenged me to say I did not want to come in. I agreed I did, but had other commitments I had to live up to. I got him out of the cab, and I drove back to the strip club. It was closed. I called the dancer and she said to call her in the morning when I woke up.

This is where the story comes to a screetching un-interesting hairpin turn. In the parking lot I got a call from another drunk friend that needed a ride for another friend. I went down there, but the FOaF was not wanting to go with me. So I needed up bringing F#1 home instead. By the time I finished with that I knew the first guy would be sound asleep. So I went home. The next morning I called the dancer and got her voicemail. No return call. Later the original friend caller, asked me if he called me the previous night, and he said he remembered nothing but puking in the bar bathroom. I found out later that the Puker had taken the Rider home and then passed out, so the rider came back to the bar, and the puker saw him macking and called me to bring him home. So I did not tell him this story. There may be something between them. I am not sure.

Mentors

There comes a time in every mentor / mentoree symbiosis, where the student can surpass the teacher. I am not saying I have done that. I am not yet one month in the business. Burnout happens within the first 6 mos. But there are some signs of that progression.

He is still referring people to me. Two such called me yesterday asuming he was off Sunday as usual. I casually mentioned to one of them that he was working when I found out. Later I ran into the client at the bar he was working, when I dropped off another passenger. He made arrangements for me to bring him home.

Later, when I went to get him, I saw my mentor's cab in front. I knocked on his window to joke around with him, and he jokingly acted mad at me. He said he stopped by to see if the guy needed a ride. But he had been told about our arrangements.

A few other of "his" customers are calling me now first instead of just when he is busy. One even called him out and said "I am getting quality service". I am not certain but I think it is possible that he or I was set up last week.

The reason for the fallout with the previous customer is that arrangements had been made for a prepaid round trip. When it was time to return, the mentor was on a long run, and it would be about an hour. An hour later when the customer called back, he was on another long run. I was called by the cabbie, and went to get the customer. The customer has called me only ever since.

Last week, the cabbie ran into the customer, and tried to make small talk. The customer said he was getting quality service. That very night my mentor called me about helping him on a long haul. When I agreed, I called thge customer to tell him I was getting ready to go on a long haul, and wanted to give him a heads up.

He said omigod omigod, can you come get us now. I did and went on my long haul. Later that week he told me about the running into him. Now I have to wonder, was the lesson for me as a cabby, in how you do not want to turn down a long haul? Or was it for the customer to see how easy it is for someone to get tied up with ambigious return trips. In any case, I had the forsight to call the customer because I had a feeling he may have been ready to leave, and the customer knew exactly what was going on. I have not mentioned this to the mentor. But if it was a test, I passed.

Dave

Dave was a young guy. He got in back. Shortly underway, he appeared awkward. He started sighing. I asked if he was all right. He said he was fine, then made an ambiguous statement about "Looking for something he's not finding". I let this pass, and gave a non-committal grunt as an answer. He went on, to say he's of the age, he doesn't care who sucks his dick, a man or a woman. I mentioned the old queer straight guy seduction phrase, a Mouth is a mouth. He did not quite comprehend that. He then went on saying he did not know the difference since he's only had his dick sucked one, and it was by a woman.

I still let this go. I brought up the adult bookstores and what goes on there. He did not know about them, and was quite interested. He then asked what I went for when I went to them. He did not believe me when I said I didn't go. But I told him I was bisexual. He asked what time I got off, and asked if I wanted a good fuck. I told him 3 and he said he may be asleep by then. After he paid I said I usually took a break around 10, but he did not respond. A woman was waiting for him on the front step. Probably his mom.

Julie

Julie appeared in my front seat after a brought a bunch of drunk kids to a party, quite a ways from campus. She said "Take me home". I asked her where and she was going and she was able to say "state street". I headed back toward campus and she got on the phone. She was calling some guy. The call did not seem to go well. She handed me the phone for directions to the guy's house, but he told me she should not come over and gave me directions to her house. She was one block over from State on Conn Terrace. When she called him back, he made it clear she was not welcome. When she asked where she should go, her response was "He doesn't know where I live". She then turned to me and asked me where she lived. When I told her, she looked at me surprised and asked how I knew. When I told her the guy told me she was very disappointed.

When we got to conn terrace, she did not want to get out of the cab. I told her I had to pick someone else up she stayed in the front seat. I was just picking up Chuck, and I knew that would be Ok. But my call after that was 4 guys out at Deja Vu. No room for a drunk girl.

After we dropped Chuck off she asked me to take her home. I told her I would, and she said "not my home". She told me how cool I was, how great I was, and she loved me. Drunk people are so flattering. I got the distinct impression she meant take her to my house. She had already opened up to me about her man, and how she knows its over, but keeps wanting to go back to him. When I got her to her house, she could not find her keys. We got her inside, by waking up her roommate. When I got back, I found her wallet, I dropped it back with a note and a card. I doubt she remembered who I was the next day.

Dudley

Dudley is a fortyish guy that is currently going through a divorce. He lives about five miles out of town and does not know the street address of his farm. It was easy to find, and its name was on the gate. He was my first reservation on New Year's Eve. He was a referral from my Mentor, John.

Dudley was going to a party at Griffin Gate, a gated resort community, and was not about to drive. At the appointed hour, I arrived to pick him up and he was not quite ready. He was somewhat surprised he had made such an early appointment. He had me start the meter while he walked his dog. He made small talk for a bit, then got on his phone. When we arrived at GG, he restated the appointed time to fetch him, but wanted to make sure he could call me earlier if he got too tired. I agreed. He did not call.

When I got there again, he was still at the table and was not quite ready to go. He again told me to start the meter but come back in an hour. I gace him an hour and 10 minutes, and he was still having fun. They were all dancing. I bet I could have got points for joining in. We got under way.

The next time I heard from him was a few weeks later. He asked if I could get his car home for him, like John does. I assured him I could, and he agreed to call me when he was more certain of his times. He called me around 8:15 to tell me he would be ready at 9, and would be at Solid Platinum, a gentleman's club. I said I would and if I got there early, I would have to just "suffer though" watching naked people dance. He laughed and said he would by me a couch dance if I got there early. I got there at 8:30. I went to the bouncer and explained I was Dudley's driver, and that he was in the VIP room. He left to confirm and told me D said i was a bit early, so i should go up there and wait for him. When I arrived in the VIP room, he repeated that, and said he would buy me a couch dance. They got a new dancer over for me, and she negotiated an all nude dance for me. When it was over, she came over to the table to get paid. I had already tipped her. Dudley paid her, and then said he wanted another hour.

I called my other cabbie friend, Duke, the one that was going to pick me up at the farm, and said we were delayed about an hour. He was a bit iffy when I told him, and I then told him what Dudley had just told me. He'd be paying us double. Duke was in. At 10:00 I arrived and Dudley was ready to go. I called Duke and told him it was "Go time". We ended up splitting $100. I suppose to be fair, I should have given Duke a couch dance, but I doubt he'd have been into it.

Names Names Names, Sweetie Darling

The order in which these names appear are random, especially at first as I commit them to this blog. Eventually they'll evolve to a chronilogical order, but some may be forgotten now, and remembered later.

Cast of Characters

When I started driving a cab in Lexington Kentucky, I knew the experience would be rich with stories. Not having a narrative, I am starting with a focus on the cast of characters. Some of these people are only in my cab one, some repeat their visits like a good ensemble cast. Until I come up with anything further, I am going to create a cast list. The people are real, but I will not be using their real names. My name is not even Louie.