One set for another

Drivers often cite one cab company to be better tha another. I found
just about every company has its share of problems and by leaving in a
huff you just end up burning your bridges.

--
[Kevin]

Its the christmas season

People 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.

L

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.

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.

Freeman

As 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.

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.

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. "Failure to wear seat-belt"

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.

Oh and the reason I always bypass metal detectors is my pace maker. I include it for dramatic effect.

as I was winding down from a wild ride

Last 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.....

Burgers $25
Cab Fare $17
Tip #23
Busting your White Castle cherry..... priceless.

Wild Weekend

Generally 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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'.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I later found out Jerry had no idea the guy was puking, just that it was "urgent" and "he's really drunk".

flight time

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

I made a point of telling the responding officer the passenger's disdain for the police. Counting on a little Mucho Bravado, 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.

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.

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.

My Favorite Career

People 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".

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Fourth of July

The owner of the cab company asked me if I wanted to drive in the parade this year. It was my idea that we had an entry since we're the new guys. I am asking exotic dancers to ride with me and hand out stuff. I also asked a cute boy to be a gogo boy. I figure to cover all my bases.

Naughty poll results

1. How old are you?	Over 30
2. What is your sexual orientation?	Bi-Curious
3. Have you ever given someone oral sex?	Sure I have
4. Have you ever received oral sex?	Yes, of course
5. How many sexual partners have you had?	More than 15
6. What is your pubic hair style?	Trimmed neatly
7. What kind of underwear do you wear?	Boxer Briefs
8. Have you ever taken, or been in, naked photos?	Yes, been in them
9. Have you ever been to a nude beach, or nudist area?	Yes, a nude beach
10. Do you watch porn?	Yes, of course. Who hasn't?
11. Have you ever watched others, or been watched having sex?	No, neither
12. How large are you...ya know, in the pants?	About 7 inches
13. Have you ever expirimented with another man?	Yes I have
14. What is your favorite sexual position?	Spooning, side by side
15. Are you circumcised?	No I am not
16. What gets you off fastest?	Hand job
17. How often do you masturbate?	Once a day
18. Have you ever had multiple partners at once?	No, never
19. Have you ever paid for sex?	Nope, never
20. When did you lose your virginity?	Over 18 years old
NaughtyPoll.com - take your own poll!
50 FREE Mp3's! No Catch!

Tonight was another first. I had a bachelorette party ask if they could get a ride home. I agreed, and as I was waiting for them to all load up, they said "she" was trying to get another - what sounded like "button for a buck". They asked me, and I said I did not know what they were even saying.

The entire way home they were chattering about the night. and how so and so did not pay a buck. I did not notice the girl in the front seat had gummi worms sewn to her shirt. When we get to the house, I ask them what the buck thing was all about.. They explain for a buck I get to bite a worm off her shirt, and the money goes to the bride to be. The fare was only $3.80 so I asked , "if I eat 4 that pays for your ride right"? they enthusiastically agreed, and I went to town eating my four gummis off the girls shirt. They seemed very pleased with me. I got a three dollar tip too - cash money.

Picky Picky Picky

I am not your average cab driver. Another successfull driver sums it up this way. He'll take anyone anywhere, he calls himself the Wal*mart of cab drivers. I tend to choose my loyalties in a symbiotic process. Much more like a boutique. He calls me the Tiffany's of cab drivers. My customer base is smaller, my gross income is also smaller, but my hours worked are much smaller and my average price of ride is much higher. It is not only about money, but as our relationship grows, so does the amount of effort I put in maintaining the relationship. I have 3 or 4 customers whose business alone pay all my fixed expenses. The rest of the business is the "profit".

People ask me when I work, my answer is "after dark" but the reality is, I work when my customers need me. For some people I am available amost 24 hours a day -- like a concierge. Some of my regulars confuse this with friendship. I am not saying I am not friendly with my customers or that I do not consider them friends. But I will say I try to keep the distinction. Some people are indeed both, and I have come up and reinforced the following distinction. If you call me for a ride, you are a customer. If I offer you a ride, you are my friend. If you call me for a ride, and tell me you need help or cannot pay, being a friend, I won't charge you. If this becomes a habit, it is like any other friend that always seems to take more than he gives.

Tonight, I let some guys go. I do not delte them from my phone, but I demote their ringtone. Different classes of customers have different priority ringtones. Some I jump at, some I barely hear unless I am absolutely focused on working. These guys got demoted down to the lowest ring-tone I have. So quiet I barely hear it if there are people in the cab. Their offense? False urgency. "... and we're in a hurry, don't get a ticket or anything, but we'll pay you extra if you get here fast". I am there well within my 10 minute estimate to be told "Can you park it, I need to get 'rick', he's inside". I park at the curb, stewing. Twinety minutes after the call, 10 after my arrival I see them exit the bar, and one gesturing back to me. They take a seat. I pull out, slow down next to them, one again gestures, and I wave and drive off.

A side benefit of my way of working is, I can spend a lot of time at my house. It is centrally located and 5-10 minutes from the bulk of my customer base. So when someone calls, I adjust my estimate depending on what I am doing. "How soon can....?" usually riles me up anyway. But one someone that prides himself on punctuality uses it, I'll jump out of respect. That's why it was so frustrating tonight. Had the urgency not been expressed, I would have been much more easy going about it. I would have parked gon in, and coaxed them out. But with the "in a hurry" I have no patience for delay.

Am I too big for my britches? Perhaps. But I do this to keep busy and keep me out in the world. I've learned to let a lot of things go, but not my respect.

Crazy Week

It was pretty busy this weekend. I was exhausted by the time Sunday night rolled around, and I missed out on working late last night. Thats OK, I needed the rest and slept a full 12 hours. Normally I get about 10 hours a day. This is due to all the heart medications I have to take for my CHF.

I had my usually class of imbibers. A few of note. Some college girls were going home and were ranking all their boyfriends. A very drunk Gay guy started rubbing my shoulder then proceeded to tell me I was a "very Pretty man". I had a few hotel regulars which is always nice. a lot of business in a short of time, then you don't see them again until they come back. Lexington has a lot of repeat regulars. This is mostly due to the large amount of annual events we have that draw people from around the state, or even ther world.

Last monday I tried my hand at the early day driver bit. It was decent money, but I sure do hate driving in traffic.

Nippular Areas

A lot of my business is at strip clubs. Every so often, customers offer to flash me their chest for a break on the fare. My answer has always been, thanks but it doesn't pay the bill. But then I got to thinking. I see a lot of them in the normal course of my work. Just popping into the clubs to get a patron, I am often inundated with topless dancers. But I had no idea how many.

I am currently conducting a study. I am counting the breasts I see. One by one, each day. I am not trying to maximize my numbers, so I am not actively looking, and I am not averting my eyes. I want an accurate count of each and every mammary that enters my field of vision.

Here is my counting scheme.

1. Full frontal, counts as two.


2. Side View, counts as one, unless it is instantly part of a turn or spin. If the dancer is actively dancing toward the side of the stage it still counts as one only, even if I ultimately see both later within a short period of time.


3. If I tell a dancer or employee of the club I am counting, their breasts are disqualified from my count.


4. "Penalty points" for when a dancer is briefly covering herself up as she walks by topless. These t-shirt covered ones, count zero, but I considered deducting 2 points from the total, but changed my mind.


5. Each dancer can only be counted once per day.


6. Only live girls count. No pictures.

Results so far
Day one 9
Day two 0
Day three 18
day four 0
I'll be counting for at leats a week, maybe two.

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.