December 30, 2008 – New Years Eve

            New years eve wasn’t bad this year.  For my 12 hours I made about $500.  The office tried to jerk me around and crappy rides from the hotel to all of the local restaurants.  You know, that same hotel that doesn’t like to wait for us when it’s slow and puts our rides in their illegal town car service and unlicensed cabs from San Diego.

            I just turned off my radio so that I don’t have to listen to Julie squawking or Catherine’s desperation. Then there's the terrible radio etiquette and the drivers “walk” all over the other cabbies' trying to call in.  So nobody ends up getting through.  It’s a real mess.

            Today is one of those days that I just do what I want.  I pick up people wherever they need a cab and bring them wherever they want to go.  I ended up all the way by Carlsbad at the end of the night.  It's much more efficient this way.  Catherine called my four times and left four separate messages.  I’ll probably check them tomorrow.  Or I may just delete them.

This Week's Search Keywords

More of the same.

                Once again, "Garbage House" reigns supreme amongst my search phrases, followed closely by searches related to rednecks, large shits, and bad haircuts.

Shooting Photos

December 28, 2008 - This Week's Search Keywords

What people were looking for when they found my blog this week.

December 26, 2008 – Corky

             Corky was dispatching tonight so there were a number of problems – forgetting to write down where you wanted to receive calls from, forgetting to write down where you were going, incorrectly writing down the addresses of people needing a taxi.  If only Corky had put as much heart into doing that job as he had into loving Jesus we would be getting somewhere.  But alas, Corky is yet another of Catherine’s bible beating ex-con’s.  

"Corky".  

What a mess.

December 24, 2008 - "Hitler Reacts" Parody

          This is simply an edit that was sent to me by a former "Cortez Cab" driver who has been following my blog.  He lives in Tijuana with his father.  A younger, intelligent driver who was disagreeable with "Catherine."  He left the company involuntarily after an altercation with one of the local hotels staff after he was shoved by one of the bellboys.  Word is Catherine fired him after she heard that after he was shoved he spoke with the hotels manager and made a complaint.  She was terrified that this might bring unwanted scrutiny from the city.  So I hear.

         He made a parody from a film detailing Adolf Hitler's life.  I guess it's pretty popular.  Not sure the name of the movie.

         I wouldn't have chosen to compare Catherine to Hitler.  For Catherine, I think I would have went with Ralph Wiggam from The Simpsons.

December 23, 2008 – Please Don’t Do That In My Taxi

             No good stories in the last few days, however I have come to realize that there are things that I’d rather not have passengers doing in my cab.  Here they are in no particular order.

1.     Singing in the cab.

2.     Asking my craziest cab story.

3.     Going less than 2 blocks.

4.     Being repeatedly told how to get somewhere once you have acknowledged your passengers and informed them that you know exactly where their destination is.

5.     Try to haggle on the cab fare, or tell me that it was cheaper last time. I’ve driven your route dozens of times, I probably know within a dollar what it’s going to cost.  Don’t tell me it was cheaper last time – because it wasn’t.

6.     Picking up smelly beat up bums that smell like a pee cocktail garnished with B.O.

7.     Being constantly asked if it is usually this cold (65 degrees), or told that the weather is nicer where they came from.  That’s wonderful, I’m sure Detroit is beautiful, why would you ever leave.

8.     Being asked if you live on the island.  Do you have a $3 map I’ll show you what a peninsula actually looks like.  Don’t know why this sham about calling Cortez an island irritates me so, but it does.

9.     Being asked if I’m grumpy.  I wasn’t until you spilled you drink and started shouting in my cab.  Contrary to what my blog suggests, I'm actually quite friendly.  It's no secret, bad news sells...:)

10. Being asked any question that starts out by shouting “Hey Cabbie!”

December 15, 2008 – Mr. Swalee’s

Julie: Cab 666

Me: 666

Julie: Pick up at building 1810 in The Palms for George.

Me: 10-4

            For the last two months there has been this guy named George who takes a taxi from his apartment to a local Thai restaurant called Swalee’s.  Problem is that the fare is $4.80, and he gives $5.00.  If it was busy I wouldn’t mind, but we are in the slow season and I just waited 2 hours for this ride.  When I get here it is no surprise as to where we are going. 

            At 97 it takes several minutes to ease himself into the taxi.  After that there is the usual complaints.  The noise of the radio, the cold (70 degree) weather outside, some medical condition of his etc…  The whole way there he is complaining about how cold it is with the window down.  I am sweating in the car and I tell him the window motor is broken in hopes that he will request another cab on the way back. 

Sure enough, an hour and a half later, I get a call from the Thai restaurant.  I’m pissed.  I sat at the cab stand for 90 minutes for this.  I go there with the window rolled down.  George walks up to my car and angrily begins thrashing his cane inside my window and around the frame.  The sea was angry…  I yell out for him to stop it and he shouts out “I don’t want you!” 

I know if I tell the office that he doesn’t want to ride with me because I have a “broken window” they will just call me to the shop to have it fixed.  Since there is nothing really wrong they will quickly figure out that I lied to George to avoid picking him up, thus having to deal with a lecture that will quickly be forgotten - in addition to having several hours of my time wasted.  I drive around the block and inform George that I had to pull the window up by hand.  Needless to say it was a silent drive back to his apartment, as it was apparent that neither one of us was very happy.