March 29, 2008 – Tourists

            I’m often amazed by some of the questions tourists ask…  There are a number of rumors in Cortez but here are two of my favorites.

            Cortez has a bridge that connects it back to San Diego, which is an alternate route from the point where Cortez connects on the south end by way of a state highway.  Anyways, somewhere or another someone decided to start a rumor that if the bridge ever fell into the bay that it would float.  Really?  This two mile long fifty foot wide mass of concrete and steel weighing hundreds of thousands, if not millions of tons, would just float in the water???

            Ok, lets just roll with this for arguments sake.  Suppose that the bridge fell into the bay and was floating there like some bathtub toy, blocking access out of the bay, and one of Navy vessels needed to make their way out to the ocean for whatever reason.  They would be shit out of luck right.   Nope, that’s where Cortez’s exploding highway comes into play.  Some people believe that there is enough dynamite laid under the state highway, which happens to be like a quarter mile wide, to blow a gaping hole in it to let ships pass through to the ocean.  Not to mention that this opening would have to be hundreds of feet wide and dozens of feet deep to give a proper berth for such huge ships…

            Well, those are my two favorites, but I heard another absurd one from a tourist today.  Apparently one of the employees on the ferry that shuttles tourists from San Diego to Cortez is telling people that Cortez has a zero percent crime rate.  Really, that’s fucking unbelievable.  Literally.  So lets assume that this crime rate is averaged throughout the year, thus the city would have no annual crime.  I’m amazed that this isn’t national news, a city with no crimes at all!

P.S.  - You're welcome to make fun of my shitty drawings all you want.  Therein the charm lies.

March 25, 2008 – Showdown With The Sarge

So once again, here we are, mono a mano – me and The Sarge.  He turns at me with an surprisingly imposing glare, despite his short stature.  His mustache is neatly trimmed.  Braun?  Shall I ask him?

  I nod politely.  I admire his panache. 

Today is the day I prove my innocence.  I stroll in looking quite dapper myself.  I dress up and put on a tie.  It was a real struggle putting on a tie this morning, it’s been years since I wore one.  I had to use a diagram that I found on the internet.  And even then it was only occasionally.  Judges notice these things.  Dressing up shows respect for the court and what it represents.  Me, well I just am interested in winning my case.   This day has been months in the making.  It can be rather intimidating contesting the officer in court, I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think I had a shot.  But I brought pictures, diagrams, and one hell of a compelling story.  This all weighs in as well.  Here is a person who is willing to take the time to not only dress up, drive to court, wake up at 6:30 a.m., take time to take and develop pictures, draw diagrams, and take time off work to come to Chula Vista of all places.  I was already off of work, I work nights, but the judge probably didn’t notice. 

So I explained how the officer’s view was obscured by the curving, dimly lit road – State Road 57.  I explained to the judge that I was headed South and turned to the East just as another vehicle was headed West and turned North.  All at the same intersection, all at the same point in time.  The amazing thing was that these events happened nearly simultaneously with two nearly identical late model sedans giving the impression that I illegally took a u-turn instead of heading eastbound.

Then the pictures and the diagram came out.  The Sarge threw his hands up in disbelief.  The sea was angry.  He made it a point to correct some of my sketches more mundane details.  I held my composure and stated my case.  No theatrics, no bravado, just a well planned defense.  I came out on top.  I won.  The Judge did have one request however – my trip sheet.  I didn’t have it with me, but I agreed to bring it in at a later date.  I was informed that my case would be dismissed upon my submission of this.

The Sarge stormed out of the court after quickly gathering his papers.  He was not happy in the least, but that was to be expected.  If I was worried about hurting his feelings I never would of came.  But that’s not something that much bothered me.  I’ll have to be more careful from now on, and do my best not to garner any additional scrutiny in Cortez…

March 5, 2008 – Frank Menderson

            So a few weeks I brought up one of our notable customers – Frank Menderson.  He’s one of the local trolls that we have to cart from time to time.  None of us drivers are too fond of him.  With Frank you get the same old shit every time.

            Frank’s like clockwork.  Pretty much every day, except Sundays, Frank takes a taxi between 6 and 7 p.m.  Here at the company we have an option of “holding.”  This means that we are opting to be available for a much narrower range of possibly fares.  For example since we know that Frank will be coming out from a residential address, we will “hold the base,” which means that we will only be accepting calls from the Navy base – not that those are any more desirable usually…

            So every day a handful of drivers, myself included, hold the Navy base in hopes of getting a better ride.  Frank only ever goes out to one of his two favorite local restaurants.  The fare never comes out to more than $5 or $6 and our tip usually consists of rounding up to the next dollar.  Were not impressed.

            If we just accept calls from the Navy base there is a chance that we will get a ride that just goes a few blocks as well of course, but we may get a great ride too.  Sometimes you get hundred dollar rides out of there.  Sometimes if you don’t hold the base you’ll get a call at a different residence.   Those can be good too.  Often times they go to the airport.  But by holding were guaranteed that we won’t have anyone grasping on to our arm with their long crusty fingernails and clammy hands, they won’t be carrying around a bag full of outdated tattered newspapers, they won’t have been wearing the same clothes that they’ve had on for the last 6 days, and they probably won’t smell like pee.

March 3, 2008 – Fender Bender

            Got into a little fender bender today.  Just a minor one – no damage.  Everyday around rush hour (between 3 and 6 p.m. here in Cortez) there is a giant traffic jam.  There are two main roads in and out of Cortez.  These roads take the brunt of the traffic in and out of the city during these times.  They’re a mess.

            You have A street that takes you over the bridge into Cortez, and B street that takes you out back to San Diego.  There is a way to bypass this and take the highway on the south side of town and go around the bay but it is much longer. There are two ways to get across to the other side of Cortez. You can stop at the stop sign at A street and dart across the road, which you have to do across B street as well.  If you’re able to get across this is much better than going to the stop at the first main intersection to cross.  MUCH quicker.

            Cars pile up at the stop sign that crosses A street because it’s well known that this is a much faster route.  What you have to do is watch for the car to merge onto A street, quickly look to your left, as it is a one-way street, and shoot out if the coast is clear.  So the guy in front of me darted out and I looked out to the left to make an entry onto A.  Coast was clear.  I darted out as well only to find that the car in front of me had hesitated and stopped 20 feet directly in front of me directly in the roadway.  What the fuck!  Anyways, I just bumped him.  He was cool with it since there was no damage.  We parted ways.

            Catherine has this policy that ALL accidents need to be reported, regardless of who is at fault or if there is any damage.  She has these accident report forms that are nearly unreadable because it looks like the original has been photocopied dozens of times.  Actually it’s like the original was photocopied, then the photocopy was photocopied, and that photocopy was photocopied and so on…  Say fifteen times or so. 

Those accident reports are unnecessary in my opinion, and I don’t have time to do that.  Other drivers tell me that even when you are not found to be at fault Catherine will try to hold past accidents against you.  Even if you got rear-ended.  Unbelievable!  We also have a deductable of $1000, which is quite high in my opinion since we drive around 40 or so hours more per week than most people.   Even as good drivers were much more likely to get into an accident because we drive more than most people. Some of the more veteran drivers tell me that Catherine gives them an ultimatum, although perhaps not directly, that if they want to continue work there that they have to pay for the damages out of pocket - even if they exceed $1000.  That doesn’t strike me as fair. 

Since I work in transportation the reporting of accidents may be a federal requirement.  I’m not really sure, or worried for that matter.  

March 2, 2008 – Town Drunks

            After a while of working in Cortez you start to notice a pattern.  I have recently noticed one.  Cortez is full of drunks. You know the ones that are out at the bar every day at 5 p.m. and make a total ass of themselves, or start crying telling you some personal detail of their lives, or being to drunk to remember their address, or what they’ve already asked you, or asking the same question over and over, or leaving their beer bottles in the back, or trying to smoke in the car with the windows up, and so on…

The NAVY is the worst!  They smell like B.O, don’t know which Navy base that they are trying to get to, and worst of all is when they try to pick a fight with you.  The sad thing is sometimes you see them doing the same thing every night.

                   They’re not bad people, sometimes they are quite pleasant.  Some are real nice to talk to.  “Smokey” is no exception.  We all love picking up Smokey.  He is one of the best tippers out there.  Not really sure what Smokey’s story is, all I know is that word around town is that he is an excellent golfer.  Smokey usually takes several taxi’s throughout the night, but the optimal time to catch him is on the ride home from the bar.  Smokey is quite the conversationalist but usually easily gets confused and says “I don’t know man” or “I like your style.” Statements like this have become the norm and are expected on a ride home with Smokey.  

                  Sometimes I pick up Smokey from the golf course when he is moderately sober and bring him to the bar or back to house and he will usually give about $4 dollars on a $6 dollar fare.  A pretty average to substantial tip, and on top of that he is a nice guy and we all like to pick him up.  However, if you get him leaving the bar at the end of the night he is more likely to give you a $14 dollar tip on a $6 dollar ride, which is an excellent tip.  Well, tonight I was lucky enough to pick up Smokey and give him a ride home from the bar, and boy he was on a good one.  When we got to his place he gave me $30 dollars for that $6 dollar ride.  Funny thing was that he said “Here’s $50.”  Apparently he was too drunk to count his money and thought he gave me more money than he did.  I was more than happy, I didn’t see any need to correct him and tell him he was $20 short.

            We have a long list of town drunks in Cortez.  Interestingly enough most of them live on Margarita St...

March 1, 2008 – The Coat Hanger Car Burglar

           Tonight I locked my keys in my car.  Wouldn’t be the first time.  I usually keep a spare in my wallet in case of situations like this.  My spare key however has strangely disappeared…

            I was lucky enough to find a coat hanger near by so I gave it a shot.  I have an older model Jeep and the locking mechanism isn’t all that complicated.  There’s no alarm either which is good, I’d hate to have that going off as I try to jimmy the car lock open.  So I unfold the coat hanger, bend a small hook on the end of it, and slide it into the door between the window and the frame.  I don’t have to break into my car often so naturally there’s a little trial and error.  This isn’t the ideal tool for doing this either so things aren’t going as smoothly as I had hoped.

            My Jeep is parked on a side street and there is almost no street lighting which complicates the process, not to mention making things look a little suspicious.  I’m not worried though, it’s my car after all.  I would imagine most people in Cortez call a locksmith when they lock themselves outside of their car.  Not me.  Locksmiths are expensive.  A locksmith probably costs $50 or so, and quite possibly more here.  I only made $85 today and I’d like to keep that.

            So after 20 minutes or so a patrol car speeds down the street and boxes me in.  And guess who it        was.  My buddy, “The Sarge.”

            The Sarge: Stop right there, get up against the car.

            Me: Ok

            The Sarge: What are you doing out here, are you trying to break into this car?

            Me: This is my car, I locked my keys inside.

The Sarge: Krinkle right, I remember you. (With a big shit eating grin on his face)

Me: Yep

            The Sarge: You stay right there.

            Me: Feel free to run the plate, you can see my keys in the ignition.

            The Sarge: Oh we will.

            The Sarge: Lets see some ID.

            Me: It’s in the car.

            The Sarge isn’t happy right now.  His partner that he is with looks like a rookie - asking a lot of questions but trying to appear professional.  I’m not fooled.  They both have this look on their face like they’ve just stumbled upon a big one. 

            Ok, now lets look at the facts.  If I were a car burglar why would I come to Cortez to break into a shitty old Jeep?  And why would I fumble around in the dark with a coat hanger for 20 minutes?  Was this my first caper?  Wouldn’t I bring some of my own tools with me?  Doesn’t it seem odd that I would come to a city that is crawling with overzealous cops, a city that I work in, and come and try to break into cars?  Equipped with a coat hanger of all things?  Am I fucking MacGyver or something?  That guy could probably get into a locked car with nothing more than a napkin and a large flat rock.  

           A city where I’m driving around all day in, working in the public sector.  That doesn’t strike me as very smooth.

I’m sure that they had the best of intentions, and had every right to be suspicious and inquire about what I was doing here, but after 10 minutes or so wouldn’t they be able to piece it together?  These guys couldn’t find their way out of a wet paper bag.   I’d sure like to meet the detectives that work here, I sure hope that I never have to file a report for anything.  After another 10 minutes or so they were on their way and I was left to my own devices once again.  There was no offer to help me of course, nor was I expecting one at this point.   From what I’ve seen professionalism doesn’t seem to be one of the departments virtues.

After tinkering with the lock another few minutes I was in and on my way home.  I was quite careful with my driving though as I was a marked man…

February 26, 2008 – Parking On The Sidewalk

This morning I came to the taxi to find a nice buttery yellow parking ticket.  My first one in Cortez.  How exciting!  $25.  For what might you ask…  Well, for something I didn’t do of course.  Typical.  I’m beginning to think the cops are a bunch of assholes over here.

I was given a ticket for parking on the sidewalk.  Could it have been an oversight on my part?  Doubtful.  Accidents occur, sure, but it would be pretty hard to park on the sidewalk accidentally now wouldn’t it?  I think I would have remembered it.  I would have had to drive over a six inch curb to get up there. 

Sometimes you get a parking ticket for something that you thought that you could get away with right?  We’ve all done it.  Like running into the store just for a second and not paying the meter.  Most of the time you are able to get away with it.  But parking on the sidewalk…  Now that’s a bunch of shit.  I’d fight it on principal, but it’s only $25.  Not too happy about this.  Not because I got a ticket, but because some son of a bitch completely made it up.  Not just some son of a bitch, Officer Harris to be exact.

February 17, 2008 – Creepy Dennis

           Pretty quiet night tonight.  Every night we get a lull in business between 11:30 p.m. and 1 a.m. so the drivers gather around and chat and line up our cabs for potential customers.  Some of us are more personable than others, and then there’s drivers like Dennis…  A few minutes ago a couple came up to Dennis and asked for a ride.

Customers: Hi

Dennis: (Says nothing)

Customers: Are you available? (This is an honest question, there are several cabs lined up in the area, and it’s possible that Dennis is just taking a break.)

Dennis: No, I’m just here for my fucking health.

Customers: Excuse me?

Dennis: I said I’m just here for my fucking health.

Customers:  Ok…  Nevermind then.

The customers ended up taking Dennis later that night - I can only imagine how awkward that was…  Some of our customers refuse to ride with Dennis for some reason or another.  Most likely because he’s a prick. 

Frank Menderson is one of them.  He’s a character himself but that’s another story.  My best guess is that Dennis tried to fondle Frankie at some point.  Dennis is a creepy old man who has been driving cab for like 15 years who is seen by other drivers frequenting transvestite bars outside of work.  He’s in his 60’s, and looks like your typical sex offender.  Quite like Kirk actually.  Something off of Broadway I believe, I think it’s called “Chee Chee.”  I have no idea what goes on in there and honestly I don’t care to.  Hey whatever, to each his own.

If nothing else it looks like total shithole – don’t think anyone is going to debate me on that one… Just another wack-job that Catherine keeps around because he works a shift that no one else wants to work.  

February 2, 2008 – Our Awful Dispatchers

           It’s 9:40 p.m. and Julie will be leaving in 20 minutes.  What a relief.  Everyday except Sunday Julie comes and dispatches from 4 p.m. to 10 p.m.   No one likes Julie. To say that she was simply mean would be an understatement.  Julie is presumably in her mid to late 60’s with beady little eyes and granny glasses with freckles and an ass so wide you couldn’t fit it on a park bench.  From what I understand she was a secretary for like 20 years, don’t know how she ended up here...  She could have easily passed for a school bus driver in some little hick town.  Every town has one of those, you know the ugly fat bus driver who screams at the kids.  I digress.

"Julie"

            Not that any of that really matters, it just seems fitting…  The reason that none of us like Judy is because she is constantly SCREAMING, and if that weren’t enough she is TERRIBLE at her job.  To work for her is simply DREADFUL!  Imagine being yelled at all day for mistakes that you never even made.

Julie is a woman with a mans ego.  Under no circumstances have I ever heard her apologize for a mistake that she made.  NEVER.  I have never in my life met a person as stubborn as Julie. There have been numerous studies over the years that suggest that there is a correlation between temperature and aggression.  Perhaps it isn’t really Julie’s fault.  After all, the office seems to be too cheap to use air conditioning.   Although the office wasn’t too cheap to add an addition on, that is before they were forced to tear it down due to a tip to the city.  Pity, a permit would have solved all of that.

When Julie leaves the problems don’t cease however, this is when the overnight dispatcher comes in.  His name is Mendoza and he is every bit, if not more, inept than Julie.  We don’t get screamed at though, so things are much more relaxed.  Problem is that Mendoza is dumb, I mean really, really, fucking dumb.  This guy couldn’t solve a puzzle with 9 pieces.  He would have been a good Walmart door greeter.  There’s speculation amongst the drivers that Mendoza is high and/or drunk at work, which would explain a lot.  I once caught him peeing in the bushes just down the street from the cab office at 6 a.m.  I don’t mean discretely either, right next to the trolly in Old Town.  Yeah, you know the one that shuttles the tourists around…  Welcome to San Diego!

January 17, 2008 – Mr. Ticket To The Rescue

           Got a letter from my lawyer today.  His name is Mr. Ticket.  Well, his name is not really Mr. Ticket, it’s Mitchell J. Mehdy.  There are a few lawyers who work there, namely Abel Galvan and Mitchell J. Mehdy.  Mr. Ticket is a small outfit that deals primarily with traffic related matters.  There is also a “Mr. DUI” run out of the same office.  I stand by these guys.  They don’t fight for you in court, that’s your job, but they frustrate the system and postpone court dates in the hopes of getting a dismissal, fine reduction, eligibility for traffic school, so some other remedy.  And all for $50.  That’s for taxi drivers by the way, for everyone else it’s $100, which is still a bargain in my opinion considering all the time you save by avoiding going to court.

            Going to court usually takes up hours of your time.  There’s the commute to court, in which you are actually chancing getting another ticket, the time sitting in court, and the money spent on gas to get there.  You could avoid the first phase of the process, typically called the Arraignment, by pleading through the mail but you usually have to pay the fine up front.  No thanks.  When you go to court and plead not guilty this is typically waived.  No need to go into the details of getting out of traffic tickets here as it was covered in another posting…

            Anyways, the people at Mr. Ticket are solid.  I’ve used them ever since I came to San Diego.  This time they pled not guilty for me and the prosecutor decided not to file the ticket.  I don’t know what the statistics on this are but when an officer writes you a ticket I’m willing to bet that like 25% of the time the supposed violator simply pays it to avoid the hassle.  Not me, I make them work for every penny!  I actually would have liked to take that bike cop to trial just to see if he wore those silly ass little bike shorts.

An older picture of Mitchell J. Medhy

January 6, 2008 – The Office Part 2…

            Today I made another trip to the office, which I am becoming less and less fond of…

I am beginning to wonder if there is any sort of accounting system in place - everything is such a mess and seems to be covered in dozens of multicolored sticky notes.  I have yet to see a calculator…  Perhaps even more strange than that is Catherine’s hiring practices.  All of the workers appear to be either grossly overweight, drug addicts, completely inept, have been to jail (usually more than once), love Jesus - or some combination thereof.

            Kirk, who has been here for like 10 years is a prime example, if not the epitome, of one of our awful employees.  Whenever anyone questions him about his behavior they are challenged to a fight in the alley.  I talked to a customer the other day who said Kirk called her mixed race son a “half breed,” President Obama a “N***er” and the mayor of Cortez a “G**k.”    All in the same conversation!  I have to imagine that this isn’t an isolated incident.   From what was relayed to me by Meg, Kirk’s fare, the conversation went something like this –

            Meg: Can you bring me to The Community Center?

            Kirk: (No Response)

            Meg: Could you bring me to the Community Center please?

            Kirk: I guess.

Meg: So what do you think about Obama, it’s amazing to finally have a black president huh?

            Kirk: Only in America we would have a N***er as a president.

            Meg: What!

            Kirk: I hate this shitty town and it’s G**k mayor.

            Meg: I have a mixed race son you asshole.

            Kirk: Well that’s your problem huh.

            Meg: Fuck you.

            I don’t remember where exactly the other slurs factored into the conversation, but they were surely there.  I have no doubt that Kirk said any of this, and why would a 60 something year old woman make that up anyways.  I wish that I could remember the specifics, I was in awe that this actually happened.  What employer in their right mind would retain an employee like this?  Imagine Kirk working at Target, perhaps at the customer service desk…

            Customer (A Man): Can I return this shovel?

            Kirk: Why?

Customer: Well, it wasn’t exactly what I was looking for.  I just want to return it, I think what I actually needed was a flat shovel, maybe a spade?

Kirk: Maybe you just weren’t strong enough to use it?  We don’t have any shovels here that little girls like you might like.

Customer: What did you say to me? Where’s your manager.

Kirk: You sound like a coward, why don’t we settle this in the alley like men?

Based on my observations, this is a realistic depiction of how Kirk would most likely behave.  And how long do you think Target would keep someone like this around?  Right, they wouldn’t.  He would be fired on the spot.  Hell, the police may even be called. He might even be banned from ever stepping foot inside of another Target again.  But no, not at Cortez Cab.

I tried to convince Meg that our company owner is well aware of this and refuses to do anything about it.  I explained to Meg that if she wanted to do anything about rotten apples like this that she would have to go directly to the city to file a complaint, that complaining to the company would be useless.  I got the feeling that she was over it at this point.  It’s a shame.  Really nice lady, I’ve driven her a few times. 

One of the night dispatchers also shared a story about Kirk.  Actually more than a few… Apparently Kirk picked up some teenage girl and her boyfriend here in town and brought them to one of the restaurants. After an argument, which was quite possibly started by Kirk, he called the girl a “little bitch” and threatened to beat up her boyfriend.  There are a number of people who won’t even ride with him. Fellow cab drivers, customers and myself are baffled as to why Kirk still works here.  Maybe that isn’t all that fair to just assume that Kirk was an asshole for no reason.  Maybe one of his passengers did something to offend him – like asking how his day was, or what his name was.

            This company is more like a circus than anything else.   “Come one come all!”  “See the Worlds Heaviest Woman, The Worlds Oldest Man, The Worlds Creepiest Cab Driver!”  And lets not forget the ringmaster, Catherine. 

January 3, 2008 – Case Dismissed

                After getting tickets for years on end I’ve developed a fairly good strategy for getting out of them.  It’s nothing complicated, but there are a number of easy things that can be done to greatly increase your chances of getting out of a ticket - whether it is beating the officer in court or just reducing your fine.

1.     Don’t say anything incriminating when the officer stops you.  If he/she does come to court you’re pretty much dead in the water.

2.     Don’t just pay your ticket.  Sometimes you may be eligible for traffic school, which is good, but it guarantees that you won’t get a break on the fine, and if you don’t go to traffic school it will result as a point on your license, and your car insurance rates may go up.

3.     Go to your first court date.  (This is called an Arraignment.)  Here the judge may offer you a deal by pleading guilty and paying a reduced fine.   If this happens and you’re happy with whatever the Judge offers, take it.  Just by going to court you may be able to reduce your fine by hundreds of dollars.  It all depends on how much the ticket was and what it was for.  Most people aren’t aware of how backed up the courts are.  Ever wonder why when you get a traffic ticket they set your court date months into the future?  Sometimes the judge will not tell you what your fine is or if it will be reduced by pleading guilty and you are asked to simply enter a plea of guilty or not guilty - use your discretion.

4.     If you plead not guilty your court date will be set for a date months into the future.  This is called the trial date.  Typically police officers work a certain shift, for a few months at a time.  For arguments sake lets say that from January through April they work from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., then from May through August they work 5 p.m. to 1 a.m., and from September through December they work 1 a.m through 9 a.m.  When you go to court, plead not guilty, and are given another court date you are increasing the chances that your trial will be set on one of the days that the officer is going to be scheduled at the department.  If he is scheduled at work he won’t be able to come to court.  In some jurisdictions the prosecutor will look over the cases and decide which ones are worth the courts time.  Like I said earlier, the courts are jam packed with cases, often times trivial ones.  If the prosecutor (This person may also be called the district attorney, the states attorney and so on…) feels that the case isn’t worth the courts time they may refuse to file the ticket.  There are a number of other ways that you could have the case dismissed I would imagine.

5.     If your case is set for trial you and all of the relevant parties will be notified of the time and place that the trial will be held.  If the officer is not present your case will most likely be dismissed.  I’ve had cases where the officer didn’t show up and the judge asked whether or not I was still pleading not guilty – PLEAD NOT GUILTY!  I’ve never heard of anyone still be found guilty at this juncture if the officer never showed up.  Can’t blame them for trying though.

6.     If the officer does show up you’re probably fucked.  There’s going to be people that debate me on this but there is definitely a bias in favor of the officer at this point.  However, the court realizes that like you and me, officers are people too, and people sometimes make mistakes.  If you are genuinely not guilty, or maybe even if you have a pretty good story, feel free to give it a shot.  One thing to note – if you go through all of these proceedings and the court decides that you are in fact guilty you will have pay the entire fine typically, and quite possibly court costs.  If traffic school was on the table earlier, it probably isn’t anymore.  The advantage of making it to the trial date is to see whether or not the officer showed up.  Some courts allow you to change your plea to guilty at this point (which is sort of important for this phase of the strategy.)  Conversely, if your enter a plea of guilty you may not change your plea to not guilty at a later date.  When you plead guilty, the court imposes its judgment, and a resolution is created right then and there.  You will have to pay the fine but you are often still eligible for traffic school, and your ticket may still be lower, and you are definitely no worse off than if you had paid your fine right from the beginning.

              By the way, I’m a cab driver – not a lawyer, and none of this is meant to be construed as legal advice.  So take it with a grain of salt.

            So back to the case at hand…  I appear for my stop sign ticket that I got a few months ago and the officer is a no show.  Case dismissed.  Oh, by the way, the other driver that got a ticket that night, he won his case too.  Ralph took the officer on in court and won.  Good for him.

December 29, 2007 – Thank You Sir, May I Have Another!

Today I got a ticket in Cortez by the “Sarge.”  Yeah, he had a mustache, portly fellow he was.  I wouldn’t doubt he likes bologna. 

            Sarge: License and registration please.

Sarge: Do you know why I stopped you.

            Me: No

Sarge: Well you can’t make a U-Turn here, and even if you could you cant do it on a red arrow.

Me: (Staring at officer)

Sarge: Hold on.

            It’s never very promising when the cop tells you to hold on.  Just sitting there in the car, waiting impatiently, wondering if you are going to get a ticket.  People driving by and staring like you just got caught clubbing baby seals or something.   I almost always get the ticket, so that’s what I expect, but when I don’t I’m pleasantly surprised.

December 10, 2007 – Kirk

            And then there’s Kirk… 

Boy, this guy’s a piece of work.  Where do I start…  Well, Kirk is a fifty something, fat, bald, lonely loser who works EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THE YEAR. He works every fucking day, unless the car is broken, or he’s in jail, which happens from time to time.  Once Kirk disappeared for about 5 weeks.  Everyone was baffled.  No one could figure out why he hadn’t been coming in.  When one of the drivers inquired about his whereabouts the office told him that Kirk had taken a vacation.  Not too long afterwards Bertha spilled the beans, well not literally, she would never spill food.  Not on purpose at least.  Now that I think of it, she probably spills things all the time, having those fatty fingers and all.  They look like bratwursts, and just like bratwursts they’re always covered in grease.

Turns out that Kirk did a little time for beating up his landlord.  Or so the story goes…  Kirk is just another angry bitter old man.  A complete asshole to everyone, and for no reason.  It’s like he feeds off others contempt for him.  I just can’t fathom it – going to work with the sole purpose of alienating all your co-workers.  This is a man who should not be working with the general public.  He should be working the night shift at a Panamanian box making factory.  Ok, it doesn’t have to be in Panama, or even be a factory that assembles boxes, but you get the point.

I heard a funny conversation on the radio today between Kirk and another driver.

Kirk: Cab 300.

Dispatch: Who called?

Kirk: …ab  30…

Kirk: Cab 3….

Dispatch: Who’s calling!

Kirk: Some queer’s playing with the radio.

Unknown: Wha Wha Whaaaaa.

Kirk: Why don’t you say that to my face.

Unknown: Wha Wha Whaaaaa.

Kirk: Oh what a coward.

Dispatch: Let him talk!

People always give Kirk shit.  Exchanges like this on the radio have become commonplace.  Kirk doesn’t have a cell phone either.  Really?  Who in this day in age doesn’t have a cell phone?  When the drivers are especially persistent with interrupting Kirk’s transmissions on the radio he is forced to find a payphone and call the office.  Just like Jorge – see a pattern emerging…? 

 This isn't Kirk, but the resemblance is uncanny!  And just like Kirk, he's a psycho too.  I'll have to get a picture of him and do a side by side comparison.

I’ve noticed that there are really no penalties handed down to drivers for bad behavior.  The office doesn’t seem to punish anyone, at least for bickering on the radio with other drivers.  What surprises me is that the office has no idea why certain drivers are routinely taunted.  Catherine seems to think that Kirk is such a hard worker and some great guy and only gets picked on because he makes more money than everyone else.  That may be true, the latter at least.  He does work like 80 hours a week. 

December 6, 2007 – Mr. Banning

           Julie: Cab 34

           Cab 34: Cab 34 Go ahead

           Julie: Pick up Mr. Banning at 1820 in The Palms

           Cab 34: …I just got a flag

           Julie is probably the only one that doesn’t realize that is bullshit.  A “flag” occurs when an individual on the street waves down a taxi as it is driving by unoccupied.  Cab 34 just pretended that he had a customer so that he could avoid the call.  As a transportation service we cannot refuse to pick up customers who telephone the cab office for a pickup.  This is one of the stipulations of the City of Cortez sets for granting us a taxi medallion to work within its jurisdiction.  Or so I’m told…  As often is the case, whenever a call is dispatched to pick up an undesirable customer drivers come up with some type of excuse.

            Julie: Cab 777!

            Cab 77: (Slight pause after debating whether or not to answer…) Go ahead…

            Julie: Pick up Mr. Banning at 1820 in The Palms

            Cab 777: …10-4

            None of us like Mr. Banning.  He is a grumpy old man in his 90’s who is quick to point anything and everything that he doesn’t agree with.  Lets not sugar coat it, he’s an asshole.  As would be expected Mr. Banning is growing increasingly senile and forgetful in his later years.  In addition to being rude, he feels the need to continuously instruct us as to where the most popular Italian restaurant in Cortez is, as if we didn’t know. 

      

Every once in a while Mr. Banning compliments our driving and we are graciously rewarded with a $.25 tip for our congeniality and driving abilities.  This would be a great tip in the 1940’s.  Unfortunately like many of Cortez’s aging residents, Mr. Banning hasn’t adjusted to inflation and hasn’t yet realized that you can’t get a movie, soda, and popcorn for a quarter anymore.  Truthfully, I can’t name anything you can get for a quarter… 

October 1, 2007 – The Cashier

           Every Tuesday morning I come in and pay my cab lease.  Before me sits Stanley, who lest not be confused with our idiot mechanic.  I’m sure Stanley is a nice guy, seems that way at least.  It’s hard to gather much from our conversations.  Well, I don’t know if it is actually a conversation.  I talk and he just mumbles unintelligible words and drools on himself with a glazed over look on his face, reminiscent of something Salvador Dali may have painted.

This isn't Stanley, but he looks like a raisin as well.

Don’t know his exact age, surely approaching the century mark.  I mean he’s really fucking old.  Nothing against old people, but my time is valuable, and I don’t want to spend one more minute than I have to in that office.  I was told that Stanley works here because he is bored, and that he works for free, or next to nothing.   I’ve never seen anyone count money so slow, it takes him like three minutes to count a stack of fifteen $20 bills.  Then he recounts it at least twice, or more if you don’t stop him.  I may just pay with hundreds next time.  I once brought in a dollar coin, which simply baffled him.  I’d be surprised it he had ever heard of a credit card, or if anyone in that office had heard of one for that matter.

October 4, 2007 – My Second Ticket

            Got another traffic ticket today…

            Unbeknownst to me it is illegal to make a U-turn in a business district.  Today some punk bike cop pulled me over in the Gaslamp today for just that reason. It was a pretty embarrassing.  I tried to plead ignorance, no dice.  I really had no idea that was a law, I looked all around before I did it to make sure that there were no U-turn signs.  He even gave me shit about not having a trip sheet.  I don’t bother with those, they are a waste of my time.  Every time that I take a ride I call it in to the office anyways, so they have a record of everything.  It seems redundant.

            Why do some cops feel the need to berate you about such trivial matters.  This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered an officer with such a personality.  Just give me ticket and go away, I have important things that I could be doing.  He was acting like he just pulled me over for driving on the sidewalk or something.  The worst part about getting pulled over is all the people that gawk at you as they pass by, like you are some kind of criminal – and I guess technically I am….  As a cab driver they probably already think I’m a shitbag, shouldn’t that be punishment enough?

            I later learned an interesting fact.  If you don’t have residential housing on at least 51% of the street it may count as a business district.  Turns out in Del Mar the local cops take full advantage of this.  In Del Mar there is a beach on the west side of the street and to park you often have to make a U-turn, if you are headed North at least.  Well guess what, it is a residential area, but since there is a beach on the west side of the street that leads to the ocean there are no houses there, so the highest possible percentage of the roadway that could be lined with residential units could be 50%.  I don’t think I could live with myself writing people tickets for shit like that.

October 2, 2007 – Grilling

         Kind of a lazy day.  Threw back a few brews, did a little grilling, and shot some pics.  I've been trying to shoot more lately.

         My steak.

         The moon just before dark from my backyard.

September 12, 2007 – My First Outburst

            Today I had an outburst.  I feel that it was warranted.

            Dispatch: Cab 777

            Me: 777

            Dispatch: Go to the Cortez Island

            Me: 10-4

            So when I arrive there is no one in the lobby.  I just pulled my taxi up directly outside, which happens to be about 10 feet from the door.  I could have gotten out but there really was no point – I can see anyone who’s inside, and right now it’s empty.  I waited there for a few minutes in case whoever called was running late.

            Me: 777

            Dispatch: 777

Me: There doesn’t seem to be anyone here, did you happen to have any more info?

            Dispatch: Did you go inside?

            Me: There’s no one in there.

            Dispatch: Why don’t you go inside and ask.

            Me:  I can see right from my car, no one is in there to ask.

            Dispatch: Why don’t you get out of your car and go inside and ask.

Me: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!  YOU DON’T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, YOU TALK TO ME NICELY!

            Dispatch: (After a long pause) You can landline the office.

            Me: No, I don’t think so.

            Dispatch: You need to landline.

            Me: No, I won’t be doing that.

            Dispatch: If you don’t answer me I’m going to take you off of the board.

            Me: Whatever.

            Dispatch: You need to landline.

            Me: No, I don’t think so.

            Boy this got the office steamed.  I’ve been pretty patient with them talking to me like a child and all.  I’m a grown ass man, and you just don’t bark orders at me like that.  Especially when I haven’t done anything wrong.  This isn’t an isolated incident with the dispatcher either.  She always pulls this shit, and most drivers just bow down to her.  I’m usually really nice to her, even when she’s being a total asshole.  I don’t think “Asshole” is a term that should be strictly reserved for men anyways.

            I’m growing a little tired of these dispatchers being so rude to me.  I’m plenty polite to them.  This is bullshit.  Later in the evening I finally called the dispatcher and she told me that I can’t be talking like that on the radio, we have doctors and lawyers in our cabs.   True, those people do ride in our cabs, but do you think that they really care if the cab drivers aren’t being completely subservient to a dispatcher who is barking orders at them.  Hell, they’re probably cheering me on.

            Here’s a passage that I like from a famous movie –

“Listen, you fuckers, you screwheads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the cu**s, the dogs, the filth, the shit. Here is a man who stood up.”

September 11, 2007 – A Cabbie’s Diet

             Haven’t been eating as well as I should lately…  Most of what I eat comes from a gas station or the local 7-11.  Food at 7-11 can be quite tasty, if you get it at the right time of day, when it is made fresh.  Not so much at 11 p.m.  The chicken wings are delicious when they are fresh, they would make George Foreman proud.  Does he eat like that anymore?  I know he came out with that grill of his, you know the one that drains all the fat and grease off.  Seems like a waste.  I’d suggest passing on the dipping sauce however.  BBQ is ok, but the ranch has a funny aftertaste.  It’s a little sour. 

            Same deal with the pizza, pretty good when it’s fresh.  It’s not gourmet by any means, but you can’t beat it for a dollar.  The cheese is extra stringy and juicy when it’s fresh.  The crust fairly crunchy too, a little on the doughy side, but once again people, it’s a dollar. 

            Sometimes it’s just too busy to stop in and get something made hot and I end up getting a candy bar.  I’m partial to candy with peanut butter in it.  Something crunchy can be nice too.  I don’t eat plain chocolate too often, unless it’s dark chocolate, which happens to be good for you, within reason.  I think that the office workers took that literally.   Perhaps they heard bacon, ice cream, and cake batter is good for you too, could they have been misinformed…?

            But my major vice is energy drinks.  I’m partial to Monster brand.  The low carb ones, I don’t like all that sugar, and the potential for cavities.  I learned my lesson after eating all of those little peppermints that you see at restaurants – you know the ones with the red and white swirls.  I drink like 4 of these energy drinks a day.  The 16 oz. ones!  I may drink the Rockstar ones if they are on sale, but they have to be significantly cheaper, they aren’t all that good.  Half the time they don’t even seem to give me energy, I actually feel more tired after drinking them sometimes.  More than anything, I just like the taste.  

           

            On a sidenote today is September 11.  

I hope everyone is able to take a moment and think about how our world was changed 6 years ago today and reflect upon things. And perhaps say thanks to a policeman, a firefighter, or an ordinary good Samaritan.      

September 5, 2007 – Shooting Photos

         Not much exciting happened today.  I’d say that it was average, 7 rides, 2 of which were locals.  My longest one went to Tierrasanta, which was worth $42.  No complaints.  It’s been slow for the last hour so I decided to take some time off and shoot some photos.  I do a little photography in my spare time, as you have probably noticed by my blog layout.  Night photography is my favorite.  Most of my photos have only minimal retouching – some people make their photos look amazing, surreal if your will, but they just don’t look real.  I like photos with a little grit.

These are the specs - 

          F - 20

          ISO - 200

          Shutter - 14 Seconds

          Focal Length - 28.0 mm

          File Size - 28.41 Megabytes

           These were shot with my 5D Mark II with a 24 – 105 L Series lens, and a F4 Aperture stop.  Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.  Plus a Manfrotto tripod of course, no self respecting photographer shoots photos without a tripod at night.

And for this one - 

          F - 22

          ISO - 200

          Shutter - 25 Seconds

          Focal Length - 47.0 mm

          File Size - 24.42 Megabytes

September 6, 2007 – Games With The Gas

            Today Salvo left me another gas receipt.  This happens pretty much every day now.  I fill the gas, every day, till the pump clicks.  I don’t know what else I can do.  One day Salvo left me a gas receipt for $12, that’s like 4 gallons of gas.  How is that possible?

            Salvo insists that I fill up on the same pump that he fills up at every day.  For me to do that I have to go out of my way to his favorite gas station, which happens to be in a shitty part of town.   It doesn’t really matter to me if I spend an extra 7 cents on gas where I usually fill up.   Today I put in 5 gallons of gas after my shift, which came out to an extra 35 cents.   I sometimes hit the gas station right downtown after my last ride, which is actually a few cents cheaper than the gas station that Salvo insists on.

            All the daytime drivers swear by the station that Salvo goes to.   There’s one pump there that’s on a banked drive that apparently lets you put more gas in the car.  It’s true, the gas stations in Cortez do cost like 50 cents more per gallon, and believe me I don’t like to be gouged on the price of gas, especially driving for a living and all, but if I only need to put in a gallon or two of gas it just makes sense.  I’ll gladly pay a premium for convenience.  Sometimes the daytime drivers only drive like 20 miles in a day, which comes out to about a gallon and a half of gas in these cars, and then they drive 8 miles round trip to fill up in San Diego, not to mention the extra 20 minutes that they spend in doing so.

            So lets do the math.  A gallon of gas is roughly $3.00 in Cortez and $2.50 in San Diego.  Ok.  So now add each of those numbers by 1.5 (Number of gallons needed to fill the tank.)

            That’s $6.00 to fill up in Cortez, and $5.00 to fill up in San Diego.  But then there are the extra 8 miles that you have to account for by driving back to San Diego to fill up.  That’s about half a gallon – $1.25.  Add that to the $5.00 that you already spent, now it cost $6.25 to fill up in San Diego when you could have just stayed here in Cortez and saved that $.25 as well as 20 minutes of your time.  I’ve tried to convince several of the daytime drivers, on a number of occasions.  They’re just not having it.

            So yeah, there’s that.  However, after talking with at number of drivers it seems that I’m not alone in my frustrations with filling up the gas. After talking with a few of the night drivers it becomes clear that this happens all the time.  Seems childish.  Sometimes Salvo leaves me a gas receipt for $1.50.  $1.50?  Really?

            Oh, it gets better.  Sometimes Salvo doesn’t even bother filling up the gas, at least as much as he claims that he normally does, he just puts in what he claims he uses.   He has a gas formula, like many of the daytime drivers use.  Salvo claims that his taxi, which also happens to be my taxi, gets 14 mpg regardless.  I’ve tried to correct him on this as well – No dice…

Me: You know the taxi isn’t always going to get 14 mpg right, there are a number of other factors that contribute to gas mileage?

Salvo: No, I checked it, it gets 14 mpg.

Me: Right, well on the day that you checked it I’m sure that it did get 14 mpg, but that doesn’t mean that it always will get the same gas mileage.  There are variables.

Salvo:  No, it’s always 14 mpg.

Me: Trust me, it’s not.  Your gas mileage will be less if you have more stop and go city driving, if you have more passengers in your car to weigh it down, if you have less gas (hence less weight) in the tank, if you windows are down, if you’re A/C is on, if your tires are under inflated, if you leave the engine running, if you are sitting in traffic, and so on.

Salvo: I just put in what I use.

Me: Well, you obviously didn’t because I can tell just by looking by the gas gauge that you didn’t.  Just go to any gas station and pump the gas till it clicks please, just get it close, I don’t want to argue about this.

Salvo: If you go to pump no. 8 at the 25^th and Imperial gas station it will fill up the gas.

Me:  We’ve been over this already, that’s out of my way in a crusty part of town and I won’t be going there to fill up on some special pump.  That’s that.

Salvo: (Shrugs)

More often that not now Salvo just does his own calculations and replaces only the gas that he considers to have used.  Look at the mileage!

            Sometimes I don’t see Salvo when his shift ends and I get some barely intelligible note scribbled on a napkin about something or another.  Here’s the one from today.

            “Why u no fil gas.  I’m fil gas and I’m drive 87 miles.  And you leve garbich in car.  Throw out your garbich, I no want to pik up.”

            This was admittedly my fault, with the “garbich,” which I have assume was meant to read “garbage.”  I forgot an empty bag of chips in the car that fell behind the seat.  Honest mistake.