Louie the Cab Driver

Thursday, October 27, 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.

Friday, October 07, 2005

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.