Louie the Cab Driver

Monday, September 25, 2006

Perspective

We had some major flash floods in town Friday night. It had been raining off and on most of the day, but appeared to have stopped by late evening. Midnight it started up with a vengeance.

Two girls took a cab and exited only to be washed away in the flood waters to their death. Just about every major road had currents crossing them. It was pretty scary. During all this, I got a call from a regular that was needing some food. We're not talking starvation, but just a big mac attack. My attitude was like that of disbelief. But it goes to show how different it was in the safety of their own home compared to the mean streets.

I made it to the food place and called back to get the order, only to find they had gone themselves. I was a bit unhappy to say the least. I think my response was "F*Y'all!" Ok, I know it was. I've not taken their calls since. Having my time wasted when I am busy is about the worst thing for my mood ever. Not canceling is a major no-no with me, if you expect me to be available to you. Each and every cancelation goes in a mental score book of mine. If I get too many "trivial" calls, all your calls become trivial. Its like crying wolf.

By making myself available to my best customers is my best business plan. My best customers understand this is a symbiotic relationship and we both benefit when we work together.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Louie's Loans and Grants Committee

I don't know what it is about people on the edge, but they look to cab drivers as sources of cash. Maybe its because so many drivers are the favorite sons of people on the edge. The edgers that finally made it. But I get hit up for money all the time. One lady, she works at the Domestic House of Pancakes and lives in a motel with her non-working husband.

I can't call him unemployed because, to be considered unemployed you must be in the work force. To be in the work force, you must be looking for work. He does not leave the room. He is either depressed or agoraphoibic or both. But thats not the topic. A few weeks back she called me from the DHoP to come get her rent money. At first it was to be a round trip, but I offered to do it for her, and only charge her one way.

It started to be daily, and one day she did not have the money to pay me for the trip. Then a few days later she paid me for half the trip. Shortly after that she called and said she was told not to come in that day, and if she could borrow her rent money. I refused, and later on, she had talked her work into letting her come in. I discussed this with some other drivers, and one said he'd have probably lent her the money if she was his customer. I'd gotten in the habit before, and its a tough call. If it drags out too long, it sours things.

Shortly there after same thing, but this time she said she had to pay it before she left for work, but could pay me back at work, with DHoP advancing her the money. This went on a few days, and then DHoP refused to advance her the money. DHoP is not the best place to work. Crappy customer base, Crappy Management and a crappy staff. This lady even said she'd fire herself, if she was the manager.

So now this lady ows me $36. I started comping her rides to help her out until she got on her feet. I gave her some stern but caring talk about how this does not seem to be a short term shortfall, but a fundamental budget budget problem. They are paying over $1000 a month for a seedy room, when a tolerable apartment can be had for $450. I also touched on her husband. If it was in his head, he should seek counseling, if its drugs they should seek counseling. If its neither of that, she needs a better job.

Cracky Pete, on the other hand is part PT Barnum, part Tom Sawyer and the rest Fred Sanford. He's always got something he wants to give me. But really its to sell to me. We've gotten out of the habit of tying value to any of the objects. From my perspective when I have cash to spare, and I see him, I give him money. Essentially he is a hobo scrounger. He has found me some great stuff, but he does not have a good idea of what I value. He knows I like electronics, but he knows nothing of the diference between a monitor left out on the curb, and a speak and spell. He has gotten me some bamboo, some wicker chairs a digital camera, and handheld game system. I cannot count how much money I've handed over. I explain to him, the money is for him, not for the stuff. Sometimes I give him money and he has no stuff. Other times he gives me stuff and I don't give him money. I've explained to him, I will not short myself to give him money. And that he has to have more "customers" than me. If not he'd better get some more because I've got a few more recipients of my charity.

Wilma is a mentally ill wanderer. She used to come by leSplat, where I used to work and I'd giver her coffee or cokes, and a sandwich. Now I giver her cash and rides. If I see her at the omelette house, I'll pay for her breakfast. Apparently she has cancer real bad and is dying and does not understand it. Some local shopkeeper is her legal guardian and has an attitude toward her like a farmer has with cats. Let them wander around blissfully unaware. She feels institutionalizing her would be "wrong" and treating her would be pointless. I take her to the university hospital a lot in the winter, but thats mostly to keep warm. Her routine there is to tell them she's been beat up, and then the police take her to the squad room, and she chills until morning.
My latest is the lotto queen. I first encountered her in line at a speedymart as she was laboring over her choices. I say, if people would spend as much time with the jobs ads, as they do picking out scratch offs, there would be no unemployment in this country. She asked how much it would cost to take her to her motel. As it would happen, same motel as the waitress. I told her $5 and she agreed. Upon arrival she told me she could only pay in winning lottery tickets. She offered me $10 in winners. I agreed. a few rides later, she gave me $25 for $15 in case and a ride home. But last night she asked to borrow $9.50 so she could "Get in a card game". This tickled me so much I asked her if she wanted $20 instead. She grew real serious and asked how much interest I'd be charging her. I laughed and said it had been a busy night, and I'd lend it interest free. She must have lost because she did not call me back. But I do know she's room 119.