August 3, 2008 – The Man Who Didn’t Like Cigarettes

            A few weeks ago myself and a fellow driver were having a chat.  I was sitting in my taxi, in the drivers seat, and one of the other drivers who well call “William” was sitting in the back.  Smoking a cigarette.  William does what most people do when they are finished with their cigarette – throw it on the ground.  Obviously this isn’t the best place to discard spent cigarette butts, but that’s where most of them just end up.  Point is it’s common.

            As William threw his butt out the window a concerned citizen spotted it and came over to intervene.  We’ll call this man “Lawrence.”

            Lawrence: You dropped something.

            William: Yeah

            Lawrence: Yeah, it’s not a garbage can you know (the sidewalk).

            William: I know.

            Lawrence: So are you going to pick it up?

            William: Yeah.

            Lawrence: Are you going to pick that up?

            William: Yeah, I will.

            So Lawrence walks about 100 feet down the block and waits.  Watching to see if William will leave the taxi to pick up his cigarette butt.  Me and William get a good laugh out of this whole thing.  I have never seen someone become so concerned about another person throwing a spent cigarette on the sidewalk.  I probably see it ten times a day.  Surely Lawrence sees the same.  Surely it just makes his blood boil.  After about 3 minutes Lawrence realizes that William has no intentions of picking up the cigarette butt and returns to the scene.

            Lawrence: Here you go (as he picks up that cigarette butt, which still is smoldering on the pavement, and throws it right in the taxi at William).

            William: (Sitting there in awe).  What the fuck?

            Me: What an asshole.

            William: I don’t know what to say.  I’m shocked.

            Me: Unreal.  That guy could have lit the taxi on fire.  Probably not, but it could have happened.  Does this guy always get this worked up about people throwing cigarettes on the ground?  It must be pretty hard for this guy to get through his day.

            A few weeks later I pick up a couple a few blocks from where this happened.  As I tried to leave the alley some A-hole in the alley zooms up in her BMW and blocks me from getting out and honks his horn.  He wants to go first.  So I say whatever and let him pass. We’ll call my passengers “Marty” and “Stephanie.”

            Me: What an asshole.

            Stephanie: Tell me about it.  I can’t stand that guy.

            Me: Why’s that?

            Stephanie: (Laughing) Tell him Marty.           

            Marty: He doesn’t want to hear about that?

            Me: No I do, what’s the deal with that guy?

            Stephanie: He’s our neighbor.  One day I threw a cigarette out in the alley behind my house and a few later he came to our front door to return it.  It was still lit.

            Me: (Laughing) I know that asshole!  (I then proceeded to tell Marty and Stephanie about my experience that I had a few weeks earlier at the Irish pub up the street.

            We all got a good laugh out of this.  Small world.  One of these days this guy is going return a cigarette to someone who really doesn’t want it back.  One of these days Lawrence is going to get socked in the face.

July 20, 2008 – The Taxi Blog Uncovered

            A few days ago Catherine, the company owner, found a fellow drivers blog.  It was pretty tame, especially compared to what I have to write about the company, which is all true I might add.

            Nothing was brought up to the author, but it was clear who was writing it, and what it was about.  Catherine was able to put the pieces together after the blog’s writer went on a rant about how terrible of a roommate that he had (which was also true).  All of the pieces suddenly fit together.  The roommate happened to be a fellow driver with the company and it wasn’t too hard to connect the dots – even for “Catherine.”  After all Randy is quite the standout, although not in the way that most people would use the term.  More in terms of descending than ascending. 

            When Catherine found out she had a little pow-wow with the rest of the obese, bible toting loons and had a “prayer meeting” where they openly sobbed for the blog’s creator.  She prayed for the driver.  I have no idea what they were actually praying for - I can only imagine…  Perhaps something garnished, if not entirely comprised of sugar.  A pastry perhaps.

            Me, well, I think that after reading a few of my posts Catherine will be able to connect the dots here as well.  I’m not worried about that though, she can kiss my ass.  You hear that Catherine?  You can kiss my ass.

You remember Randy right?

http://corruptionincortez.blogspot.com/2012/01/july-9-2008-randy.html

Some of you may remember "Ted Martin's" blog as well - "The SoCal Cabbie"

July 10, 2008 – Do You Know Why I Stopped You

            Of course I do…

            Today I got a speeding ticket.  I wasn’t trying to speed, I was just following the flow of traffic.  We’ve all done it right?  Of course I couldn’t see how fast I was going since my dash lights were still burnt out.  Oh, and because the speedometer doesn’t work.  I didn’t expect any leniency from the CHP.  The shitty part was just before I got pulled over, and before I saw the cop I might add, I thought that I might have been going too fast and was slowing down.  I should send the ticket to Catherine and have her pay it.  I don’t know how many times now I’ve asked her to fix these problems with my cab.

            I didn’t even want to be out in El Cajon.  I was doing a favor for a regular customer by giving his friend a ride home for less than half of what the meter came to.  On top of that his friend was running his mouth for no reason, and saying that I was taking him the long way, although when I asked which way he would like me to take he had no suggestions.

            I enjoy picking up Jake though, he’s one of my “regulars.”  He probably calls every few days, and unlike most of the sailors, he tips.  I even went out and grabbed a beer after work with him once.  Real down to earth guy.  The officer who stopped me, well, he wasn’t so amicable.  Surely I’ll be visiting traffic school again in no time…

July 4, 2008 – The 4th of July in Cortez

        I have mixed feelings about working on the 4^th of July.  The money is good, but it’s oh so frustrating.  Traffic everywhere, no parking, drunks everywhere, you name it.  Especially here in Cortez.  I hear that 500,000 people come here alone to watch the fireworks.  You get a good view from the bay.  Actually a great view – if you’re lucky enough to get to the front and get a seat.  Sure beats watching them from National City.  Or you may know National City by something else – “Nasty City, “National Tragedy”, “National Shitty”, “Nasty Shitty” and so on, you get the point.  If you’ve been there you know what I’m talking about.  Consequently we get a lot of rif-raf from there, Chula Vista “Chulajuana” too for that matter.  Don’t send me the hate mail, they were nicknamed that long before I moved here.

            It takes a good 30 minutes to get from one side of town to the other (which is only about 2 miles).  It’s a mess.  I had to take a break after a bit today.  For an hour I took a break and shot some photos.  There was absolutely no street parking.  I just parked in an alley.  It was hard to get a good spot but I made due.  Had time to shoot a few photos, not my favorites, but they were fun to shoot.

            After that I was back to work.  Traffic had subsided a bit, but was still a disaster.  When it was all said and done at 2:45 a.m. I had made $370 in fares in about 10 hours.  No one had tried to fight me.  No one had thrown up in my cab.  Everyone had paid the fare, except this super drunk guy who tried to pay with a credit card for a $6 fare.  That one was on me, it’s just not worth the time to mess around with a credit card when it’s that busy, it’s actually better just to pick up another fare believe it or not.

July 3, 2008 - Joshua Tree National Park

            Today I went to Joshua Tree State Park.  I've heard great things over the years, I've just never took time to actually go.  It was a nice drive, about two and a half hours or so.  The park is filled with these spectacular rock formations.  And that the trees that the park is named after.  It's unfortunate, whenever I think of a Joshua Tree I remember that awful U2 album (which was called the Joshua Tree). These were a few of the photos that I shot earlier.

July 2, 2008 – Robert Pervantes

             I picked up this real oddball earlier, and to say that he was simply an oddball, well, that would be an understatement.  His name was Robert.  “Robert Pervantes.“

            I was sent to 571 R Street in the alley to pick him up.  In Cortez there are alley addresses and street addresses.  Generally the more well-to-do people have street addresses.  The alleys are reserved for smaller guesthouses and apartments primarily.  Typically younger people who work in the service industry here in Cortez.  Resturants, marinas, hotels, etc.  Not many corporate folk.  And occasionally weirdos…  Today was no exception.

            Me: Hi

            Robert: Um, hello.

            Me: Where are you off to?

            Robert: Um, can we just drive around for a bit?

            Me: Sure, but I have to give the dispatcher a final destination.

            Robert: But could we just drive around.

            Me: Sure whatever.  I’ll just make something up, but you’ll have to pay the meter. 

            Robert: Ok

            This already struck me as a little strange.  Typically people don’t like to pay for cabs, which aren’t cheap by the way, to just drive around.  This guy’s sure seems like a creeper.  It would be exciting to get a fugitive.  I’ve already had several geriatrics, it’s be nice to mix it up.

            Robert: Can you go right here.

            Me: Sure

            Robert: (A block later) Could you take another right?

            Me: Sure

            Robert: (Another block later) Could you take a right here?

            Me: …Ok

            Robert: Slow down.  Is that light on?  Was there anyone in there?

            Me: I don’t know.

            Robert: Do you think he saw me?

            Me: No, it’s dark out.

            Robert: Are you sure?

            Me: Yes

            Then the conversation really started to get weird.  He pulled out this camera with pictures of his sisters boyfriend on it, which appeared to have been taken surreptitiously, and asked for my take on them.

            Robert: So do you think that this guy is hot?

            Me: I wouldn’t know.

            Robert:  Oh, me either.

            Me: ………

            Robert: Can you make a left here?

            Me: Sure

            Robert: Can we make another left, and then the left after that too?

            Me: Sure Robert.

            Robert: Look the lights on in there.  Can you see anyone in there, do you think that’s my sisters         boyfriend?

            Robert: So you don’t think he saw me?

            Me: Well, I have one of my regular customers that I have to pick up, we should probably get heading back.

            Robert: Oh, ok.

            Me: (A few minutes later) $6.80.

            Robert: Ok, I just have $7.00.

            Me: That’s fine.

            That’s quite a coincidence  He had exactly (minus the 20 cents) what the meter was?  What if we just kept driving, as he had requested, and the meter came out to $9.00?  What would he have done then?   Would he have brought exactly $9.00 with him.  I really don't care if people tip me or not.  Many people think that we do.   

            You’re really rolling the dice if you are taking cabs without having enough money to pay the fare.  That’s something that might get you beat up.  I’m pretty well natured, some of the other drivers not so much.  Vincent’s a good example of that.  Vinny probably would have stuck an icepick in him.  After all, that’s his weapon of choice, or so he says…

            From the sounds of things his sister wasn’t too fond of him either.  Could it have been because here old pervy brother Robert keeps hitting on boyfriend?

July 1, 2008 – Just Another Day at Cortez Cab

         Business as usual....

June 21, 2008 – Vincent

            Today Vincent got a little agitated with the games on the radio.  This happens fairly frequent these days.  Music, fart noises, mocking other drivers, etc…  Me, I don’t worry about it, I really don’t care.  But man, some people really get worked up about it, especially Vincent.

            Vincent used to be a dispatcher.  It just became too much for him to handle – all of the games on the radio that is.  The drivers would just taunt him relentlessly.  I could just imaging him sitting in that tiny little office, just smoldering away.  Infuriated.

            When the drivers would start up with the noises he would say things like “That’s what your motha said” or “I’m gonna come down there and punch you in the mouth.”  This would just add fuel to the fire.  If Vincent thought that the noise was bad before…  After a while Vincent was having nightly outbursts, cursing away at the drivers.  Most of them just got a good laugh out of it. 

            Now that Vincent has been driving, instead of dispatching, things aren’t much better.  About a week ago he had a breakdown.  It wasn’t the first time…  After being thoroughly provoked by his fellow cabbies, Vincent scoured the city with the intention of speaking to every single driver in an attempt to weed out the culprit.  He just came to the cab stands, one by one, shouting things like “I don’t give a fuck about the job, the police, jail.  If I find out who’s doing this I’m going to put them in the hospital!”  “I don’t give a fuck, I’ll put them in the ground!”  To say that he was mad would have been an understatement.

            The only advantage for Vincent is that when he begins to lose his temper while driving he can just go home.  When he was dispatching that wasn’t really an option.  Today, despite his frustration, Vinny stayed.  He just drove his passengers to their destination while calling the instigators “cowards.”  Catherine wasn’t amused.  A “landline” was requested…

June 19, 2008 – Eavesdropping

            I caught the office eavesdropping on me today.  I don’t know if “caught” is the right word, they made it quite apparent.

            One of our piece of shit cabs broke down on me AGAIN yesterday.  An almost weekly occurrence at this point.  This time it was a blown hose.  I was just driving and all of the sudden noticed my temperature gauge indicator was in the red – not a good sign. 

            Perhaps I could have been alerted if the check engine light had not been covered up with a business card.  Actually, I guess it wouldn’t have mattered, since it is always lit.  That was surely the thinking behind putting the business card there.  I think every car that I have driven so far had a check engine light the was permanently illuminated.  To be fair, I’m sure that some of the cars have check engine lights that aren’t illuminated though – but only because they were left on so long that the bulb burnt out.

            At any rate I thought it would be in my best interest to pull over right away.  There was steam shooting up from the hood, which is what actually alerted me to the problem initially.   Upon further inspection I saw that one of the hoses going to the radiator had blown and was spilling coolant into the street.  I called the office and arranged for a replacement cab for the remainder of the day.

            Today day I gave the office a call to check on the status of my car.

            Julie: Cortez Cab

            Me: Hey Julie, can I speak with Victoria?

            Julie: Hold on.

            Victoria: Hello, Victoria speaking.

            Me: Hey Victoria, it’s *****.  I was calling to see if there was any word on my cab.

            Victoria: Hmmm, uh let me see, uh, which cab do you drive?

            Me: Cab 44

            Victoria: Yeah, it looks like you will be driving Cab 98 for the res--------

            Catherine: Victoria I got it, I’ll take it from here.

            Catherine: Hey *****.  Yeah, right now your cab is in the shop.  Were looking at it right now.  Were checking the engine right now to see if we can save it.

            Me: Ok, I’ll check back later on it.  Thanks.

            Catherine: Teeennnn Fooouuuurrrr

            Why the guilt trip?  There was no way that I could have foreseen that hose bursting.  These things just happen.   Actually most times when something does break on an automobile it’s completely spontaneous.  I did exactly what I should have done by pulling over and letting the cab cool down.

            And for the eavesdropping.  I have no idea what the reason for that was.  And could it been overdramatized anymore?  I think not.

June 16, 2008 – Gomez Sr.

             Now that you know a little about Gomez Jr., it’s only fair that you know a little about Gomez Sr. as well.  The father and son duo.  They both live down in Tijuana.  I believe Gomez Sr. raises chickens.  He also does work on the internet, pay per click marketing/advertising or something like that.  He only comes in to Cortez to drive cab when he needs to supplement his income.  I forget, he may share the cab with his son.

            I like Gomez Sr.  He strikes me as a pretty honest guy, which unfortunately seems to be a rarity here at Cortez Cab, where dishonesty runs rampant.  I like Gomez Jr. as well for that matter.  Gomez Jr. is a bit of an oddball, constantly espousing his beliefs about how the government is plotting against us, watching us, controlling us.  Just the other day he was pushing some documentary made by a couple of kids.  “Loose Change” it was called.  Some far left extremist psychobabble, reminiscent of Michael Moore.

 

            Gomez Sr. told me a funny story today.  He told me that Catherine had some issues with his dress.  Who knows what he was wearing, probably jeans and a t-shirt or something.  That’s what most drivers wear.  Well Gomez wanted to make a statement, he wanted to look sharp.  Gomez picked out a nice dress shirt, buttoned it up, and put on a tie.  And what did he pair that up with might you ask?  Well, he thought that would look nice tucked into a pair of sweatpants.  He said that Catherine just took a look at him, waited a second, and told him that he looked “absolutely ridiculous.” For once she was right.

            This was better than the story that Gomez Sr. told me shortly after I first met him.  We were talking about the job and our backgrounds, probably about business that day.  I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember the vivid details that Gomez Sr. offered about his taste in women.  Not sure how the topic was sparked, although surely by Gomez Sr., but he began to tell me about how he liked “girls with big hairy bushes.”  Oh no, that wasn’t all.  He told me how he liked them wet, and how he loved to eat them, and just rub his face in them.  What was most astonishing was how cavalier he was about the whole thing.  How he just segued into the topic, from something completely unrelated.  I had no rebuttal…

            I don’t think that would be something that I would share with someone who I’d probably met briefly only once before.  Probably not at work.  Probably not at all.

           This is another one of Gomez Jr's videos.  Gomez Sr., his father, comes in at around the 5:00 mark.

June 5, 2008 – Dauf

            Julie: Cab44
            Me: Go Ahead

            Julie: Go pick up at the main gate (of the navy base).

            Me: 10-4

            It takes me a few minutes to get here because I was on the other side of town.   Whenever the dispatcher gives you a call it’s best to head straight there.  All of the radios in our cabs function as a network, so every transmission that is broadcast, between whoever, is heard by everyone in the network.  Also, often times by listening to the radio you can figure out where the other drivers are.  Today Dauf was listening.

            Dauf heard Julie give me a that call a few minutes and thinks that he is closer.   Instinctively, Dauf has decided to try and take the call that was given to me.  It’s nothing personal, he does this to everyone.  He's just a bastard, that's all.  I might not have explained this already, but when the dispatcher sends you to a certain location to pick up a passenger, and you acknowledge her/him, then it is your ride/fare – no one else’s.  It has been given to you, and everyone knows it because it is transmitted throughout the network.  If you want to give it to someone because they are closer, or because they ask you if they can pick it up, well that’s up to you.  That’s your prerogative.

            There are a number of ways that some of the other drivers try and get around this – by saying that they were already there (which often times they aren’t), saying that the passenger was insistent on leaving immediately, that they didn’t hear the radio (everyone listens to the radio), that the person that they picked up didn’t call, and so on.  None of these excuses are very believable.  Dauf gave a good example of this today.

            So as I arrive at the navy base to pick up my passenger I see Dauf a hundred feet or so in front of me trying to pick up my passenger.

            Me: Dauf, what are you doing.

            Me: Dauf, that’s my ride

            Dauf: What?

            Dauf: This guy, were you sent here?

            Me: Yes Dauf, but you already know that don’t you.

            Dauf: He said he didn’t call.  Do you want him.

            Me: Yes Dauf, I’ll take my call.

            It wasn’t a great ride.  About $14.  Nothing to scoff at.  More than anything it’s the principle of the matter.  You just don’t steal from your co-workers.  Unless they have previously stolen from you.  I believe in retribution.  The company believes in passivity.  Well let me tell you, passivity gets you nowhere in the cab racket.

May 29, 2008 – The USS Richard Millhouse Nixon

            Recently we have had some visitors come to Cortez, in the form of an aircraft carrier – The USS Richard Millhouse Nixon.  Well, as you may have suspected, it’s not really called the “Nixon,” but that’s what were going to call it. Capiche?  I digress.

There she is "The Nixon."

            The Nixon is here due to a set of unforeseen circumstances.  My understanding is that the Nixon was sailing somewhere around South America when a massive fire erupted in one of the ships compartments.  The ship survived, but there was extensive damage.  For some reason or another the Nixon was docked here in San Diego to be repaired.  I understand that it will take months, and millions upon millions of dollars.  What caused this fire might you ask?  Oh, well it was a sailor(s) that were smoking in a room near flammable substances.

            I don’t mind though, this surely will bring good business for weeks to come.  Rides to the strip clubs if nothing else.  Those sailors love their strip clubs.  I’ve actually compiled a list of the most commonly requested destinations by sailors over the last 2 months – in order of occurrence.

1.     Horton Plaza Mall (San Diego)

2.     The Little Club Bar (Cortez)

3.     The Yardhouse (Downtown San Diego)

4.     Déjà vu (Pt. Loma Branch)

5.     Hooters (Downtown San Diego)

6.     Dave and Busters (Mission Valley)

7.     The Gaslamp (Downtown San Diego)

8.     AT&T Store (Downtown San Diego)

9.     Starbucks (Cortez)

10. Mc P’s Bar (Cortez)

I admire their simplistic lifestyle.  

May 15, 2008 – T-Boned

             Saw this old lady get t-boned at an intersection earlier.  I’m not making light of the situation – she was fine.  Probably a little stirred up though.  It must have been a little hard to see through those giant coke bottle glasses.  I’m glad that she wasn’t hurt, or anyone else for that matter.  Both cars were pretty smashed up though.

            The lady, Nancy as we’ll call her, just shot right across traffic.  No hesitation whatsoever.  I was just a little behind the car that hit her.  He wasn’t going too fast, probably 20 mph or so.  He hit the tail end of her car and spun it 90 degrees clockwise.  Nancy didn’t even look, it didn’t even seem like she knew that there were other cars on the road.  If I had been another 30 feet further up the road I would have hit her, there would have been no time to stop.

            Nancy looked like she was in her 80’s.  Sure old people have to the right to drive on the road too, but when you don’t realize that you’re not the only one out there…  Then there’s a problem.   

I’m surprised that she made it across the first lane of traffic.  The road that she was crossing was a one way in each direction with a median for a staging area to wait for traffic on the other side to clear.  Usually, since the road is quite busy, you cross the first one way and sit idling in the median until you are clear to cross the other one way.  It’s not too confusing.  I find this a little unnerving that there are people this oblivious out there on the road.   

Nancy never even turned her head to look.  She was on a mission.

May 13, 2008 – The Smell Test

            So the other day one a customer complained that one of our taxi’s was not up to par.   Seems that the particular cab that they rode in was stinky.  Not a stretch by any means…  What was the office’s solution might you ask?  Well it was to have all the cabs come in one by one for a “Smell Test.”  Although surely it wasn’t coined as such by the office…

            Yep.  The drivers were called into the office one by one by Julia, yet another of the offices many grossly obese office workers, so that they could be sniffed individually in an attempt to pinpoint the culprit.  What a solution!  How scientific!

            Not only were a large number of drivers alienated, but the problem wasn’t solved.  As usual, the office failed to notice the obvious…

1.     It was probably the driver that smelled.

2.     The taxi may have only smelled that day due to something that had been spilled, someone had thrown up, or whatever.

3.     Realizing that their cabs were going to be inspected the drivers cleaned/deodorized their cabs prior to coming in.

After passing the “smell test” the drivers were free to return to work.  Later one of the disenfranchised drivers gave me their thoughts on the current state of affairs at Cortez Cab with what I found to be a humorous acronym for what they felt that the term cab really stood for – Complacency, Animosity, Belittlement.

May 12, 2008 – The $100 tip

            Got a call from Catherine earlier today...

            Me: Hello

            Catherine: Hi

            Long pause…

            Catherine: It’s Catherine

            Me: I know.

            Another long pause… 

I’m not sure why every call from Catherine needs to start out this way.  It’s as if she is just waiting for me to volunteer something or another.   It’s a little strange, especially after the first few calls.  I don’t take the bait.

            Catherine: Were you working at 3:30 a.m. last night?

            Me: Yes

            Catherine: Do you remember that?

            Me: I remember working at that time.

            Cathereine: Did you pick up someone at 321 Main Street and go to 123 Second Street?

            Me: Yeah

            Catherine: They said that they accidentally gave you $100

            Me: No they didn’t, I think I’d remember that.

            Catherine: Are you sure, they’re adamant that they gave you $100.

            Me: I think I’d remember that.

            Catherine: Could you check your trip sheet to see how much they paid you?

            I don’t see the point of that.  I’ve already made it clear that I hadn’t received a $100 bill, and further explained that if I did that it was something that I would have remembered.

            Me: Truthfully I’m pretty lax about keeping those.

            Catherine: There’s a problem right there.  It is imperative that we keep trip sheets.

            Me:  Ok, I’ll do that from now on.

            Imperative? 

Perhaps I should have responded with something along these lines –

“Affirmative.  The requisite level of comprehension has been established.  How shall I proceed?”

May 11, 2008 – Party Cab

             Today a cab patron of mine told me that there is a driver downtown who calls his taxi “Party Cab.”  I guess that there’s a spinning disco ball dangling from the ceiling and loud music.  Oh, and drinking too, and not just by the passengers.  The driver drinks too.  He’s in there slamming beers with the passengers.  What the fuck?  I can only imagine how many laws are being broken by that guy…

            The passengers think that this is cool too, at least the ones that I talked to.  I guess the guy that drives “Party Cab” is some hippy that’s been driving a cab for years downtown.  From what they described he sounds like a real space cadet.  The creepy old guy that goes to the high school parties.  To each their own, but I think the first thing that I would look for in a taxi driver was that they were sober?  Otherwise what’s the point of me taking a taxi?  I could save a lot of time and money by driving around drunk myself.  

May 9, 2008 – CHiPs

           And the award for worst penmanship goes to…

            Well, it goes to this son of a bitch.  I wish I could read his name.  I’d like to write him a nice letter.  Actually he was very nice, I’m just bitter about yet another ticket. 

            I gave him a good laugh.  I was singing in my car as I was speeding down the freeway, a deserted freeway I might add, in the middle of the desert.  Just outside of El Centro, the shitty little hick town that it is.

            Officer: Do you know why I stopped you?

            Me: Yeah

            Officer: Do you know how fast you were going?

            Me: More or less.

            Officer: Ok

            Me: So what are my options with this?

            Officer: Well you can pay your ticket, or you can call the number on the back            

of the ticket here and they will arrang---

Me: Sorry, I was hoping to get traffic school.  I was wondering what my options were for that.

Officer: You won’t be eligible for traffic school at the speed I clocked you, but I didn’t sign the ticket yet.  I could put that you were going 10 mph slower.  That would make you eligible…

Me: That would be much appreciated.

Officer: You saw me back there didn’t you?

Me: No, I didn’t see until you pulled me over.

Officer: Yeah, I thought you saw me when I clocked you.  It looked like you shouted “Fuck..”

Me: No, I was actually singing.

Officer: Yeah, I was behind you for a full mile or so.

By the way, “appreciated” is an underused word nowadays.  Give it a try, and say it with sincerity.  People love to be appreciated.  Perhaps I realize this now more so since I work in such an underappreciated profession.  Taxi drivers keep people from killing other people on the road, from getting DUI’s, providing, at times, the only way for people to get from one point to another. 

Catherine has this policy where drivers have to tell her about any encounter that they have with law enforcement regarding moving violations, any violation involving a vehicle for that matter, regardless if the driver is engaged in company business or not.  Why would I do that?  What benefit would that serve?  I’ve talked to drivers who say that Catherine just tries to use this as leverage when they get into trouble - for whatever.  She told me that it is so that she knows all of the facts and that she can be more effective in defending us when the City of Cortez wants to revoke our taxi permit.

That’s absolute nonsense.  Catherine has no pull with the courts.  She can’t even corral a few rouge employees.  All that the city cares about is that you don’t have too many points on your license.  I don’t know the specifics, but I think it may even have to be suspended by the California Department of Motor Vehicles before you aren’t able to drive a taxi.  Bottom line is that I got this in my personal car and I’m not going to tell her.  I’m sure that I’m not the only one.  

April 12, 2008 – A Call From The Office

Ring, Ring...

            Me: Hello

            Catherine: Hi *****

            Me: Hi

            Catherine: It’s Catherine

            Me: I know. (No Shit)

            Catherine:…. 

            Me: Yes…

            Catherine: *****, do you know what this is about?

            Me: I’m not sure.

            Catherine: ***** were you driving yesterday at 4:50 p.m.?

            Me: Yep

            Catherine: Do you know what I’m referring to?

            Me: No, I’m not sure.

            Catherine: At 4:50 p.m. were you driving on 6^th street?

            Me: It’s quite possible.

Catherine: Do you remember an incident with another driver near the library.

            Me: I do.

            Catherine: Do you remember what happened?

Me: Yeah, I remember coming across this guy that threw a fit for no reason.  Was it that guy?

Catherine: The man who called just wanted to say that he was disappointed.

Me: He was disappointed?

Catherine: Yes *****, he was disappointed.

Me: Well, I’m not really sure how to help him.  I didn’t do anything wrong?

Catherine: He said that you went around him when there wasn’t any room.

Me: There was room because I passed him. If there wasn’t any room I wouldn’t have been able to do so.

Catherine: Do you see what this is about *****?

Me: It’s about some guy that got frustrated for no reason.  I don’t know what to tell you.

Catherine: Do you see what the problem is?

Me: No I don’t.

Catherine: *****, in Cortez we are held to a higher standard.  We have a monopoly here in Cortez.  We could lose this at any time.  We have to be careful.

By the way, there are no monopolies here in the United States.  We have anti-trust laws against that sort of thing.  And what’s with all of the repetition?  Just because I drive a cab doesn’t mean I’m slow.

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 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!