tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-103270912024-03-07T12:43:33.238-05:00Louie the Cab DriverKe7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-76776212233427243372014-07-28T13:13:00.001-04:002014-07-28T13:13:17.268-04:00Most helpful<p dir=ltr>I wrote an <u>amazon</u> review for my Land Line from Verizon and just noticed it was voted most helpful.</p>
<p dir=ltr>http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/cr/B008G4W4NI/s=sd</p>
Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-3200151140082150842012-05-09T14:34:00.000-04:002012-05-09T14:34:25.508-04:00Retired<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Louie has retired. Actually, it has been about as long as he was even driving. This blog will be archived, but shut down so as not to be added to, as a static part of internestory.<br />
<br />
Louis</div>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-18033609807878207082010-03-13T01:46:00.001-05:002014-06-10T13:16:52.845-04:00Same boo no mobile<p><a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35845465/ns/us_news-life/">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35845465/ns/us_news-life/</a></p> <p>Kevin<br> sent from Droid</p> Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-65083204816250437602010-03-13T01:44:00.001-05:002014-06-10T13:17:28.273-04:00Boo if true<p><a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35845465/ns/us_news-life/">http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35845465/ns/us_news-life/</a></p> Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-67714747790582367802010-03-08T13:50:00.000-05:002012-05-09T14:51:20.844-04:00Forever marked, or just making conversation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It has been fourteen months since I stopped driving a cab. I still get asked if I'm still driving. I still get the occasional phone call. I'm not sure if people so identified me with the position or they're just making small talk.<br />
<br />
My response is a smile and I casually mention my end date. Its usually followed with an inquiry of what I'm doing now, so I suspect the latter. In no way am I defensive about the inquiry, nor am I of the belief everyone needs to follow my career as closely as I do.<br />
<br />
I'm just blogging about it because its on my mind.</div>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-43827150711604760102010-01-01T17:44:00.000-05:002010-01-01T17:44:32.667-05:00Old HabitsI spoke too soon. Shortly after midnight, I got a call from a neighbor. He had a houseguest that was ready to go home, and was too drunk to drive. While not technically driving a taxi, my designated driver function came real close.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-23480065302926871512009-12-31T20:29:00.001-05:002009-12-31T20:29:37.358-05:00Nye2009<p>This is the first time in five years I haven't driven a Taxi on New Years Eve. Its weird, but I have no plans.</p> <p>I didn't give it much thought until my burriteur at Bajio, asked me my plans. Props for the home made style Mexican food, by the way.</p> <p>Since I quit driving, even though I kept my taxi van, I've been utilizing Lextran. I mention this because fresh in my mind, is the pointless disagreement with the driver over the existance, or not, of a route, even I agree was discontinued. Hardly worth my breath, but pixels are cheap. Let it be heard, let it be said, Lextran ran an express bus to Nicholasville, Ky. around 1998 or 99. It was the other leg of #7. It was discontinued after a grant was spent out.<br> </p> <p>---<br> Kevin, <br> sent by my Droid</p> Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-41148104695150440302009-08-11T16:07:00.002-04:002009-08-11T16:10:45.844-04:00Out of businessI read somewhere that the average tenure for a New York Cab driver was 5 years. I just about made it. I started New Years Day 2005, and quit New Years Eve 2008. If 20% off is almost. Which I would challenge if someone told me.<br /><br />Of all the stories I have accumulated, the one that stands the test of time is the time I was pulled over in a road block. I have been encouraged to flesh it out and expand it and submit it somewhere. I am not sure if I have blogged it. But if I have, it will be reworked into something more of an entertainment piece.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-47322210784296886382008-12-05T01:44:00.001-05:002008-12-05T01:46:43.186-05:00CAREER GOAL: CHECKIn the weeks before my fourth anniversary as a cab driver,<br /><br />I finally got my first demand to <span style="font-weight: bold;">FOLLOW THAT CAB</span>!Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-41154658487746651952008-11-12T03:51:00.002-05:002014-07-06T14:38:46.726-04:00Wanted: Scooby Doo Mystery Inc. Clue-puterTonight some kid with luggage was waiting outside the bus depot. He said his bus didn't come for six hours so instead he wanted to go to capital city but only had about half the cab fare. I'd been quite profitable so I agreed to get the guy at that price.<br /><br />In a bit of a power play on my part, I was going to detour him downtown to pay my electric. I mentioned this to the kid and he kind of freaked and said I could pay the bill and come back. The driver that originally talked to him pulled in and I explained I was going to pay a bill and return. Five minutes later, I did and the kid was gone. The driver said he took off walking. <br /><br />I should add, when I pulled up, he brought his luggage right to the back of the cab. It was only when I mentioned the detour, that he backed off on it, and apparently had no intention on going to capital city in a cab.<br /><br />I cannot figure out what was really going on.<br /><br />Here are my ideas;<br /><ol><li>He had bus fare to capital city, and thats what he would pay for a cab. About half fare.</li><li>He did not trust me, and was too nervous to get in my cab.</li><li>He did not want to go downtown because there may have been police there.</li><li>He was planning on robbing me, and changed his mind, once I mentioned I had to pay my electric, I was humanized.</li></ol>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-79185296543339937412008-11-03T18:33:00.005-05:002014-07-06T14:40:16.060-04:00St. KittsI sometimes wonder about the power of saints. I started driving about 4 years ago, and had a St. Christopher Medallion in my cab from a very early date. Periodically I would switch cabs, and it would not make the switch right away. I have had a Jesus on my dashboard recently, and I have found it keeps me nice. What I mean is, it is always within the corner of my eye, and it reminds me to be a nice guy.<br /><br />This past weekend, I replaced my St. Christopher / Our lady of the High ways, visor clip and it took me a while to realize it but it was like I has a lic to print money. Granted it was Halloween weekend, and I am pretty sure I put it up on All Saints Day, and even lamented Christopher's Catholic demotion from the universal calender. see below <sup>1</sup><br /><br />I know it was a coincidence. But after a terrifically busy Halloween night, Saturday was rather sleepy. I slept all day, for the most part, and got to work around 11:45 pm. I had a few passengers, but nothing major. I went home relatively early, happy with the knowledge that I had been so profitable the night before.<br /><br />One of my co-workers was not feeling up to a call from a hotel to the airport at 5:30, and at about 3:45 asked if I'd take it for him. I agreed, and although I was home already, I went back out with plenty of time to spare. While waiting, I fixed the long-broken window handle in my van. It had not worked for quite a while according tot he person I bought the van from. It just so happens it was the guy t hat I was covering for. The party came out, and I drove them tothe airport. They all asked for receipts, and I had to fumble around looking for them, as that does not come up for me often.<br /><br />Once I came out with my hand-written receipts a woman approached me and asked if I could take her to a town 35 miles away. She was pretty unhappy about something, I could tell. She asked if I took debit, but did not, and referred her to some that most likely did. But I offered the ATM option. I think it was my willingness to compromise that kept her with me. Another way I deal with that is to let them purchase fuel for me.<br /><br />Once we were on her way, I gleaned bits of her story. She was at the terminal with luggage. I assumed she had arrived. She was traveling to her future in-laws house. But as the story progressed, it became clear, the obvious was not so. Her story was, as she put it "wack". and clearly she did not want to go through the details with me. But what had happened was; she ended up at the airport with luggage two days early. Her ticket for the following day was with her ID in the town 35 miles away. It was 5:45 and she was concerned that she would even be able to wake the mother.<br /><br />On the way to the atm, I had enough questions in my mind, that I asked her to confirm making this trip was her best option, and she assured me the man's mom would understand. And that this was her only option. I did not want to pry, I explained that sometimes while upset, people do not always come up with alternatives, and I wanted to put them out there in case that was so. But she assured me this was best. This is another reason, I am glad she went with me. I do not think other drivers may have been so patient with all the uncertainty in the situation.<br /><br />We went on our way. She had previously attempted to sleep in the smoking lounge at the airport, but was welcome to lay down in the back seat. I had a comfortable and almost scenic drive through the palisades of the Kentucky River. By the time we got to the town, she gave me rather vague landmarks to find the condo in question. She did not have the exact street address. Not being from the town, the landmarks were not all that meaningful. But without much trouble we found the place. She paid me $86 and asked I wait to make sure she got in. Actually, I would have balanced the luggage on my head on the way in.<br /><br />I drove back, $86 dollars richer, in addition to the $22 I got from the hotel run. All earned by me after I went in for the night, content in my revenue for the weekend.<br /><br />I put the St. Christopher "Patron Saint of Cab Drivers" medallion on my visor on All Saints Day. This story happened the same day. I relay this to you. Draw your own conclusions.<br /><br />Bonus Halloween story.<br /><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote>By the end of the night, I was exhausted, and one of my regulars that also lives 35 miles out of town, called me, and it was clear she was <span style="font-weight: bold;">beyond </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">common sense intoxicated</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span> She told me where she was, but I was otherwise engaged and trying to clear up for her as best I could. She kept calling me back, and was giving me other bar names each time. I clarified, and she had not moved. Her mind was just merging a lot of bars into one. The last time I heard a man explain they were not the same thing. When I asked who she was with, she said just herself. Usually she splits the cab fare with two or three other girls that live on the same farm. That brings the fare down to about $20 a person. I cut them a break too. But usually there is one that is the most sober and I can look to them for direction. This girl was by herself. These farms have houses all over them, and I was unsure which house was hers. By the time we got to the farm, we got to her gate, and she did not have the control card. She confidently explained she would hop the fence as usual and be fine.<br /><br />This was not acceptable to me. I wait until ladies get inside their homes before I drive away, and was not about to let an intoxicated woman, <span style="font-weight: bold;">dressed like a playboy bunny</span>, hop a fence and disappear into the inky blackness of Woodford County. We argued a bit, and I emphasized with her ability to accomplish her task, but explained, it was for me, as much as her. I couldn't feel good about myself, if I did not confirm she was home safe. I repeated, that I could not even see the house, she said was there. I did not fear for her safety. It was warm enough, the grass was soft enough, but I did not want her to fall asleep outside when I could prevent it. She relented. Also she did not have the full fare, but by then I had polished my shining armor and was ready to slay dragons for her.<br /><ol> <li> <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2004/jul/31/local/me-beliefs31"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></a><br /></li></ol></blockquote><ol><li><a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2004/jul/31/local/me-beliefs31"><span style="font-size:100%;">In Spite of It All, St. Christopher Hangs In There</span></a></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.google.com/products?q=St.%20Christopher%2FOur%20Lady%20of%20the%20Highway%20Visor%20Clip&sourceid=mozilla-search&ie=UTF-8&oe=utf-8&client=firefox&rls=org.mozilla:%28null%29:unofficial&um=1&sa=N&tab=wf">visor clip not exactly like mine</a><br /></span></li> </ol>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-54047327447355689922008-09-05T23:53:00.003-04:002014-07-06T14:41:02.381-04:00Tattoo You, Tattoo Me, Da Plane Da PlaneI was for a while complete unaltered. Unmodified. Unadorned. [...] I had my tonsils, my appendix, no piercings, no tatoos, UC, and what not. I began to feel, I was kind of the anti-radical radical. Because of the vast numbers of tattooed and pierced individuals in my social group, I was clearly the outsider. Was I square?<br /><br />I came real close to getting a below the waist piercing back with Bob Andrews has Retail Hell down the block from the Parsley Peapod. But closer inspection of the procedure proved to make me de-select that option. For a while I worked at the latter, and became quite familiar with body jewelry and the different options available. I find it aesthetically pleasing to look at on others. But I do not have a compelling need to add it to myself. Even external, non pierced jewelry is rare for me. I don’t even wear a watch. I’ll buy rings, only to take them off for a shower, and forget I ever owned them.<br /><br />Holes close, but tattoos are much closer to forever. The thing I always said, was, I knew of no design I would want to be forced to live with the rest of my life. Yes, I know, they can be painfully removed now. But still.<br /><br />Almost 5 years ago now, I underwent the knife. My breast bone was split open, my rib cage was spread apart, and my blood was pumped through an external pumping device, while doctors, grafted new arteries to my five clogged ones. I had a quintuple bypass. This left me with a 8 inch scar down the center of my chest. My chest hair parts like a boy’s on school picture day. But as scars go, it is quite smooth. In fact, I have heard scars referred to as <span style="font-style: italic;">angry.</span> If that is the norm, mine is downright <span style="font-style: italic;">friendly</span>. In fact a local artist, and well a newspaper columnist described it as <span style="font-style: italic;">sexy.</span> When I wear deep V shirts, I will once in a while field the casual inquisitor about it. It is then, I realize I do not even realize it is there.<br /><br />This reminds me of the previous caveat I had about a tattoo. I did not realize, I may forget it is there. Especially if it is not where I see it regularly.<br /><br />My dad was in a horrific cycle accident when I was an infant, and split his chin and jaw open, leaving an <span style="font-style: italic;">angry </span>scar. I stopped seeing it, and was puzzled when people asked me about it. Then I remembered.<br /><br />Now, for a design, I would want something culturally relevant to me. I have considered the Chinese characters, native American lore, as well as the cartoon and tattoo standards out there, but wanted it to be personal.<br /><br />For me that means Norse or Teutonic. Cool. I would not have to ape someone foreign culture for a cool design. But was I? I have several European friends. They get frustrated by our obsessive clinging to our ancestral homelands. “I am Irish!” or whatever. Which kind of turned me to what is quintessentially American, or Minnesotan.<br /><br />I have also considered religious iconography. Since my heart surgery, I have began purchasing Sacred Heart stuff. But very recently I recalled something I remembered from a long ago trip to the Black Hills.<br /><br />Two Aces, and Two Eights, all black. Wild Bill Hickock’s “Dead Man’s Hand”. It fits me for many reasons. While I am very much alive, many consider this life to be my second coming. Before my surgery, most of my friends considered my hospital to be my death bed.<br /><br />Statistically, a person that survives 5 years after my surgery, survives another 20 or so. I am surviving my 5th year. March 2009, is my five year anniversary. I wonder how this tattoo idea would be like laughing at death.<br /><br />Not sure. But here I have committed my thoughts to the written word.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-76998586643104767202008-07-20T02:31:00.000-04:002014-06-10T13:21:47.520-04:00signsI was on my last call of the night and I saw what seemed like a<br />spectral light dart across the road at a railroad crossing. I don't<br />know how else to describe it. I got a funny feeling and decided to<br />quit for a bit. On the way home I stopped to get a Slurpee and when I<br />returned, both headlights were burned out. I drove dark to the<br />Supercenter and bought replacements and installed them. They worked<br />and as I drove away I noticed one of my tires went flat. I need to<br />stay off the road. My instincts have served me well thus far I am not<br />going to ignore them now.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-73935433587864625782008-02-14T14:18:00.002-05:002008-11-12T04:03:35.267-05:00Junior detective boyA year ago or so, I had a pickup at a motel. The fare ended up<br>running after at 30 mile ride. I filed a complaint with the local<br>cops. They were pretty sure they knew who the guy was, as he ducked<br>out right behind a woman's house that just happens to be the mother of<br>a local troublemaker that fit the man's description. TODAY they<br>have a man in custody suspected of robbery that bears a remarkable<br>resemblance to my runner. He was staying at the very same motel I<br>picked up at then. Admittedly this is all circumstantial, but I am<br>compelled to share what information I have. The guy seemed very smug.<p>-- <br>[Kevin]<br>sent from my Samsung u740Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-20345467206650421772007-12-15T05:50:00.001-05:002007-12-15T05:50:22.253-05:00PATonight I probably had the highest call average and the lowest number<br>of calls. 5 @ $55 only two were normal calls. In addition to<br>transportation I transported alcohol, bought and programmed someones<br>new cellphone and purchased poppers -er VHS head cleaner. I would<br>think that puts me in category of a personal assistant.<p>-- <br>[Kevin]<br>sent from my Samsung u740Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-40311296116250462342007-12-02T14:50:00.001-05:002014-07-06T14:39:37.601-04:00Fwd: Cranky<p>In my three short years as a rolling Lucy Van Pelt: the doctor is in,<br />I do not think I have come across such dispair and unhappiness. It is<br />not unusual to find that people are sad or angry, but for some reason<br />it seems more intense this season. I had two people admit they've<br />thought about hurting themselves last night. It was not the angst<br />ridden desperation but more the almost ashamed afterward admission.<br />Somehow its more chilling to hear the latter than a threat. I do what<br />I do that I do. Five cents please.</p><p><br />sent from my Samsung u740</p>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-36328415138897935712007-11-30T10:56:00.001-05:002007-11-30T10:56:08.790-05:00One set for anotherDrivers often cite one cab company to be better tha another. I found<br>just about every company has its share of problems and by leaving in a<br>huff you just end up burning your bridges.<p>-- <br>[Kevin]Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-68432252893045451792007-11-30T08:20:00.000-05:002007-11-30T08:23:35.238-05:00Its the christmas seasonPeople are chronically low on cash right up until after christmas. I wonder if thats due to all the cristmas cash and returns. In any case, I have a lot of "can I pay you when I get my paycheck" type of requests. But due to the large amount of repeat business I get, I find it pays to be nice. I have stopped serviucing some people that never seem to catch up, but usually they stop calling, or is it I stop answering. Ah Chicken and egg. I do handle emergencies like an ER would with me serving as Triage Medic and Ambulance driver, as the case requiures. I do not practice medicine, this is a Metaphor. <br /><br />LKe7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1159207073029205262006-09-25T13:47:00.001-04:002014-06-10T13:20:06.087-04:00PerspectiveWe 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1157229746934449042006-09-02T16:41:00.000-04:002014-07-06T14:42:40.589-04:00Louie's Loans and Grants Committee<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">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. </span><br /> <br /><p><blockquote>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.</blockquote></p>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.<br /> <blockquote>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.<br /><br /></blockquote>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1156807199402335982006-08-28T19:08:00.000-04:002014-07-06T14:43:02.882-04:00FreemanAs I have never revealed my name in this blog, readers may wonder if I am a fugitive from Justice. Until 3:30 today I had a warrant out for my arrest. Last night I decided to be a man, and make an attempt to make good on it. I did not confess. I did not alert the media. I just skulked into the district court building. I bypassed the metal detector and went to the all night court counter. But I was informed I could not take care of it at 4am, but had to return between the hours of 8 and 4 and go to court services first.<br /><br />Now a little on what brought me to this point. I was charged with multiple crimes, and pursuant to our US Constitution, I was, of course, innocent until proven guilty. I got my attorney on it, and he struck a plea deal for the least of the charges. He got the court date extended a very large time away. It was for August 2nd. I had many other traffic fines to pay, and breathed a sigh of relief on the extended deadline. But I forgot when it was. As August was drawing to a close, I realized I had most likely missed it, and knew I had a bench warrant out for my head on a stick.<br /><br />But no more. I walked in again today, bypassed the metal detector, and went to court services. She took my ID and left to talk with some officers. I tensed up a bit, and told myself, it is always better to take your punches than to live always looking over your shoulder. She came back and said to me. "<span style="font-style: italic;">Failure to wear seat-belt</span>"<br /><br />I agreed and for an instant understood how Arlo Guthrie felt. She told me to go tot he payment window and pay my $163.50. I did, and was finally a free man! Originally I was cited for going 89 in a 55 mile an hour zone AND no seat belt. The former would have put my hack license in jeopardy, the latter does not. It was my happiest fine ever paid.<br /><br /><blockquote>Oh and the reason I always bypass metal detectors is my pace maker. I include it for dramatic effect.</blockquote>Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1153697989193377682006-07-23T19:30:00.000-04:002006-07-23T19:39:49.203-04:00as I was winding down from a wild rideLast night it was back to back calls once again. I had to pass on a few because I was too far away, but overall they meshed pretty well. I had some "late" breakfast plans around 5 so I headed home to chill for a bit, when I got one last call. It was a round trip from a hotel to a White Castle. <br /><br />Apparently the man had seen Harold and Kumar go to White Castle and had never been to one. He tried to get the limo driver to go through the drive through, but he refused. A baseball player had offered to take him in his car, but the player had had a drink, and the guy thought the better of it. So he asked the concierge at the hotel when he got back. Reportedly, she started laughing at the request, and called him a cab. Ultimately I was the cab. <br /><br />The guy was so excited. He ordered a "Crave Caee" (a 30-pack) 2 bacon cheeseburgers, 2 orders each of fries and mozzerella sticks. The crave case comes in a handy stuitcase style box with a handle. He spent $25, which is not hard to do at Arby's but quite a challenge at Whitie's. <br /><br />I fancy myself as a White Castle authority, which is why I think the call was given to me. I explained all sorts of White Castle lore. I explained why there are holes in the meat. I even told them about the fiscal responsibility of the corporation. They do not finance their buildings, nor franchise. The guy wants to have a White Castle down where he lives, due to a large number of traveling Ohioans. <br /><br />When he got back to the hotel his fare had hit $16.40. He slipped me a pair of Jacksons and he was off, happy as a little boy in play-land. So his final toll for the food was about $65. But when you think of the mastercard commercial.....<br /><br />Burgers $25<br />Cab Fare $17<br />Tip #23<br />Busting your White Castle cherry..... priceless.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1153082397958790632006-07-16T16:10:00.000-04:002006-07-16T16:45:50.000-04:00Wild WeekendGenerally I just work 11-3 monday through saturday and thats very scetchy until thursday. But this week, I've been slamming. I took both Monday and Wednesday almost completely off, and I'm glad I did, because I made up for it last night and friday.<br /><br />My cabbie wife (Jerry) and I have this tradition of seeing who can be first to "call it" as in a good night. He and I work very different angles on the cab business so it is not unusual for our experiences to diverge on any given night. My customer base is party animals. His is hotel guests. We overlap in our college clients and we both take hosre industry overflow from the industry leader, Davey.<br /><br />On any given night, I prefer my calls to flow into one another. This means I go from point A to point B and get a call from B' very close to B. B' to C then I get a call from C' and so on. This happened friday night by 8:30 so I called it. It also happend saturday evening by 6:30 and I called it again. Jerry, not actually my wife, he's totally straight, I also refer to him as my hetersexual life partner, ala Silent Bob and Jay. But we actually resemble one another and both Silent Bob at that. The irony of this will not be lost on anyone that knows "jerry's" real name.<br /><br />The serendipity of rides came to a beautiful apex friday night. It was abotu over, I was very tired. I got a call from a strip club I "work" and headed over there. I work it because it is very convenient to my house, and on slow nights I can hang at my house, watch TV or stuff, and get there within 5 minutes. But this time I was 20 minutes away. I told her I'd head that way, and if they were still there I'd take them otherwise I'd just go home. When I showed up another 2 cabs were already there. I called the front desk and confirmed the people should have already been outside. Guessing they were in one of the 2 cabs, I kept driving and went to the nearby super america store. As I was loading up on snacks, they called back and said they had a party of 5 for me. Since I drive a mini van, I can handle parties larger than the normal max 4. I got there, and there were many people needing cabs.<br /><br />The club had just exited the building, and the people that did not plan ahead were in up-the-creek-land. As I was approached I explained I was reserved for a large party. They were kind of unhappy, as you can imagine. I also know that starting about 30 minutes prior, the waitresses start asking their drunker patrons if they need a cab. "no no, we're alright" is often the answer.<br /><br />So my party loads, and its "lottery call". So described because it is well above the normal fare. Standard out of that place is about 9-12 bucks. This was a 3 party three stop. In one general direction but a few detours on the way. At the first stop the gentleman asked about what I thought the rest of the ride would be, and I told him about $25 or so. He gave me $40. I continued make the rest of the stops. During this Jerry called me and said he was driving a customers car home for her, and he would need a ride back to his cab downtown. This is a little known service we do for special customers. Essentially for the price of a round trip and a good tip, we'll get your car home. <br /><br />The clincher of this whole deal is he was going to point D and my final destination on my lottery call was D'. And we were en route simultaneously. When I cleared, I called and told him I was running low on gas, and if he was waiting for me, I could get him right away, but I needed gas. He was still enroute, giving me time to stop at the gas station that was between D and D'.<br /><br />That is what we call cabby Kharma. Earlier that night I had been doing the A-B, B'-C, C'-E thing to great success. I was hungry so I detoured to the border for a spicy chicken cruntch wrap supreme and a big tea. On my way back I heard a call on the raidio. It was on the other side of downtown, so I agreed to take it. When I was on the street, the call canceled. Its a well known experience of mine that in the rain, people call multiple cabs, and (hopefully) cancel the others after the first one gets there. Knowing my personal customer base was out in full force, I clicked my radio off. I did not need the distraction. <br /><br />Other drivers that live and die by the dispatch must watch me in action in wonder. I worked 7 hours friday night taking only one call off the radio and picking up one at the cab stand. I had a brief break to get food and gas, but not very long. <br /><br />But it doesn't always work out like this. Toward the end of last night, I was dropping someone off near down town, and I get a call from Jerry. One of his favorites needed a ride and the Doomsday Cafe, and could I go get her. I agreed, called her and was there in 5 minutes. I show up and its a party of 4 one of which was splain on the ground puking. This is right as the bars close. When a lot of drivers, including me, make 75% of our income for the night. I could not afford to have someone puke in my cab. We charge $100 clean up fee, but its not enough to handle the bother for me. I had some of my own calling me at the same time. I have some regulars I call "the Power Lesbians". Sex in the city had some new yokers in this role, and they were all glamorous and that. Thats what these girls are. I had trouble explaing to the drunk kids how I did not have time to deal with Pukey McBarfbag. I called Jerry and ordered him to come clean up his won mess. During this melee, the PL called and I barked into the phone, I had to call them back. Before it was over they called again, and I screamed "Kerry What?!?" I vagueley heard some yelling back, I cleared up my drunk people, and told the PL I was on my way to them. <br /><br />When I got them in the cab, I told Kerry I may have yelled, and she said forget about it, she needed to blow off some steam, and it was fine. I continued to explain what was going on, and she was truly uninterested nor upset by it. I got them home, turned around and finished my night with my bar employees, like I do most every night. <br /><br />I later found out Jerry had no idea the guy was puking, just that it was "urgent" and "he's really drunk".Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1152579558026389612006-07-10T20:40:00.000-04:002006-07-10T20:59:18.036-04:00flight timeI had my first runaway fare today. Most other drivers have had them. What made mine different is I had the time and inclination to pursue the police option. The party had me pick them up at a Lexington Hotel and take them to get their car at AAMCo. It was closed so they said they needed to go to Georgetown. They did not seem to care about the shorter milage route, and acted as though the expense did not matter. <br /><br />Thinking back, of course it did not matter. They did not plan on paying for it. These people did not realize I am a proud owner of the Hardy Boys Detective Handbook, and read it religiously. I remembered their room at the hotel. But back to the trip.<br /><br />On the way they started bad mouthing the police. I muttered in tacit commiseration so they definately felt I disliked the police as well. All I really said was I did not like the current ad campaign by the highway patrol: "Bluelights over the Bluegrass". So they have me pull up to a house, but out of view of the back yard. They said something about hoping his mother's house was unlocked in the back, and quickly dissapeared around the house. I noticed someone peaking out through the blinds, and shortly thereafter a dominos pizza car came up. A teen ager answered the door. I then went up and knocked as well. I explained to the kid that I had dropped some people off and they were going to go in the back, he said they lived behind him. <br /><br />I then simply went around the block parked in front of the house. Shortly thereafter a grey-haired woman came to the door and I walked up. I explained I dropped a man and a girl off behind her house. Se said they came for some keys and they left. I then explained I was calling the police. This is where they should have made good on the $60 some dollars they owed me by now. The police came on short order. Three, as a matter of fact. Small time crime in a small town. They were familiar with the perpetrator quite well, so I think he is a habitual trouble-maker.<br /><br />I made a point of telling the responding officer the passenger's disdain for the police. Counting on a little <span style="font-style:italic;">Mucho Bravado</span>, I got the response I expected. "We'll see what we can do to catch them..." I then told him, that their reaction toward law enforcement had a lot to do with me filing the report. <br /><br />The officers went up to the house and talked with the mother, but she would not let them in. They believe he's still in there. Chances are if he has any warrants out for his arrest, this may be all they need to apprehend him. On my way back from Georgetown the police called me again, and asked me where I picked them up. I gave them the motel and the room number. Thinking things through, chances are they skipped on their motel room too, and now, even if they registered under a fake name, the police know his true identity. <br /><br />I may get some more satisfaction out of this, but I did it mostly out of the principle. My chance of recovering any money is minimal. But I know that theft such as this goes tot he county attorney's office it can mess you up.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10327091.post-1152391272196495322006-07-08T16:40:00.000-04:002006-07-08T16:41:12.213-04:00My Favorite CareerPeople that meet me in my current career as part time cab driver are often a bit confused. I can imagine some of their thoughts. "I wonder what he did that he has to drive a cab now?" or "gee he seems so smart..." or "Funny my husband never asks for a second cup of coffee when I make it".<br /><br />What these people do not know, is that I have pursued every single one of my dreams. well except maybe one, more on that later. I also realized they were just that. The reality could never live up to the dream. When I was in college, I wanted to work in "finance" something involving money. Not the movie theater business I worked at during colllege and shortly thereafter, but loans and stuff. I soon had a job as Loan Representative at a place called The Higher Education Assistance Foundation. It was such a snooty sounding company, I frequently got "wow" as a response when I told people where I worked. I was so proud. I took the bus to work, had a transfer and as I waited with my fellow riders for the second bus, I knew I had the best job among them. I could not understand why they all were not striving to be "Loan Reps". But it wasn't long before it became tedious. Sure I could do it, but ugh, it was dull dull dull.<br /><br />I ultimately pursued my next dream of being a college professor. I can teach well, I relate well to students and all that. I came to Kentucky to get a PhD in Economics. I quickly realized I did not have the patience for the research part of the job. I also found that the research was the main motivation behind professors careers. I applied for a Master of Science degree and quit the PhD Program. I decided University staff may be a good home for me. I worked for another snooty sounding organization "UK Equine Research Foundation". I was mostly support staff, and it too got tedious. Next I had the chance to move to a department that lost its only staff member. She died suddenly without ever training anyone in. I was brought in as a sort of forensic jobber to try and backwards engineer the job from what she produced. But I got bogged down in tedium. Really really bogged down. <br /><br />This period brought me to a restaurant. I needed to buy a new car and my system of just in time budgeting (think paycheck to paycheck) would not allow me to fit in a car payment. So I took a PT job at night to save money for a new car. Ihad not waited tables since I was a teen ager. But something happened, I realized I liked it. I made good money at it, and I enjoyed it. But I did not feel I was fulfilling my potential.<br /><br />I had quit my day job by that time and was working FT as a waiter, when a friend of mine offered me what my new dream job was. It was an internet job. I was offered a crazy high salary, and ambiguous duties, at best. I had free reign to do almost anything I wanted. I did everything asked of me, and then some. But the company was restructuring so a lot of my ideas, or the ones that cost money, were scuttled. I was so bored. But I did not feel I could afford to leave a job that paid so well, so I treaded water. Eventually the company went under, and I went back to waiting tables. Thats when I realized the service industry was where I was most happy.<br /><br />In college, I loved my movie theatre job, but it was not "professional" enough for the likes of me. So I thought. I am not sure when it clicked with me that I liked helping others, but I think I come across it honestly. My grandparents were in the hospitality industry through my dad's and my childhood. I literaly grew up as a young concierge. <br /><br />After I had a life changing surgery, I found I did not have the energy to work. At least not a set schedule. I was sleeping a lot of the time due to my heart medications. I knew some cab drivers and asked them if they thought I could do it. I knew I could, but was not sure I'd be good, or that I'd enjoy it.<br /><br />What an understatement. I think from the third day, I knew I loved it. It is absolutely perfect for me. I have attention deficit disorder (ADD) so repeition gets tedious to me. I am easily distracted. To compensate for this I have developed a short cut mentality. I had become used to the cash-a-day lifestyle as a waiter so the other big obsticle for a lot of people was also not a challenge for me. The short cuts help me be more efficient getting form A-B.<br /><br />Driving a cab is a lot of small tasks. Bring Bob from Kroger to home. End. Take Margie to the liquor store and back. End. No matter how bad any one of them may be, there is a very quick end in sight. No dread of an eight hour day. Ironically I hate to drive. When I had to go to the mall for something, you would have thought I had to drive to Florida. But driving a cab is not the same as driving. I believe the difference is this. Driving myself to the mall was a waste of time necessary to complete a task - buy Blue Malva at the Aveda Shop. But driving someone to the Mall for them to go to Macy's, WAS the task. AND I could pop inside for my Blue Malva having got paid for the trip as a bonus. All of a sudden I could run my errands and pick up fares on the way. <br /><br />Not many people can say they made $30 on their way to Target to go shopping. Also, stress is a big concern foir me. It is thought, besides family history, the way I dealt with stress was one of my chief risk factors for my heart attacks. In a set job, even waiting tables, you have to work under stressfull conditions. Driving a cab I am my own boss, and can quit for the day whenever I want. If I hve a particularly stressfull fare, I will often go home pet my dogs lay down or even quit for the night. I have quite a few remedies. <br /><br />I like to say I can work whenevr I want. But the truth is, while I can work whenever I want, I can only make money when the customers want a ride. To this end, I have adjusted myself to a routine. I have some of the best customers in the business. "Signal Tens" are when someone requests a particular driver. Its a radio code from the old days. But now with mobile phones S-10s come to me by way of phone. It is not unusual for me to be dozing at home in front of the TV when someone will call and I am off. I feel like Batman. My Bat-phone rings, and I get my Bat-cowboy hat, and jump into my Bat-cab and am off - de de de de de de de..... You can guess what my other dream job was. Crime fighter.<br /><br />My customers are so great and so loyal, I refer to them as Signal Twenties. They are twice as good. I realized how loyal they where this past weekend, when I had to reuse my old Virgin Mobile phone. When I started driving 18 mos ago, I started with a prepaid phone. I knew it would be important, but did not want to commit to the job or a phone contract at first. As I looked through the saved numbers I garnered during my first two weeks of driving, I noticed just about all of them are still riding with me. <br /><br />I have never been happier doing anything in my life. I think I was happy with my first Loan Rep job, but it did grow tedious as I sat and entered stuff in computers all day and heard the same excuses for late payments over and over. <br /><br />Sometimes I wonder if the following in your fathers footsteps ever skips a generation. The jobs I have enjoyed have often been held by my ancestors. My maternal grandfather was a streetcar conductor, and my paternal grandfather was a long haul trucker (also owning a resort). I did not mention my love of cooking, but I do love it. One of my great Grandfathers was a cook at a logging camp. My dad was a CPA and airline executive. Not exactly hands on service. But he also told me he was never happy in those careers, that he was just doing it to earn a living to support us. I do know he hates the hospitality industry though. I guess airlines is service and transportation though. So I guess it may still count.<br /><br />All in all, I treat every day as a gift. I wake up and look forward to getting in my cab and working. I bought my own cab after eight mos of driving. I only do it 25 hours a week or so. But I do not think I'd want to do anything else.Ke7inhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17946403943228717529noreply@blogger.com0