November 13, 2008 - Shooting Photos

        I'd love to write another post about the company, but alas, once again I find myself not having the time, as I am also currently working on a photography blog of mine.  So, for now I will leave you with a picture.  More updates on that circus of a cab outfit that I work on soon...

         This is shot of the Hotel Del Coronado at dusk.  For more details on this and other photos of mine please click the above link.

August 22, 2008 – Mrs. Wilitz

           Mrs. Wilitz is one of our regular customers.  She has an account with the office.  Whenever Dolores Wilitz takes a cab we just put her pickup point, destination, and a total fare on a business card that is stamped with a payment template on the back.  Most companies would print out receipts for this sort of thing.  Not Cortez Cab.  It might cost them a few extra cents to order stamped business cards, and it would be a lot to ask them to spend money on anything.If you’ve read some of my previous posts you’ve heard about the condition of our cabs.  And if you haven’t, well, they’re pieces of shit.

            So we have to go into the office and manually stamp the back of them.  But we can't stamp to many at once.  We are only rationed out 40 cards at a time.  After that we are supposed to fill out a office log and sign it saying that we only took 40 business cards.  I'm not sure why the office makes us do this, it's beyond silly.  If drivers want to come in every day and grab 40 that would be fine though?  I don't see the advantage of having a stockpile of stamped business cards sitting in my cab, other than the fact that if I do grab a bunch of them at once it minimizes the number of trips that I have to make to the office.  Bizarre that office is...

            Anyways, one of our drivers, who we’ll call “Driver A,” picked her up the other day.  Driver A picked her up from “The Willows” a retirement community in Cortez.  One of the attendants wheeled her vegetative husband out in his wheelchair.  They were going to the Hotel Del Coronado, which is more of a local tourist attraction than anything else.  I spoke with a man who went there for a beer a few days prior.  A $13 beer….  A bottle of Budweiser.

            Driver A and the attendant folded up the wheel chair and helped Mrs. Wilitz and her husband into the taxi.  When they arrived there was a problem.

            Driver A: (Pops the trunk to remove the wheelchair)

            Mrs. Wilitz: What’s that!

            Driver A: It looks like a wheeellllccchhaaaiir…?

            Mrs. Wilitz: How did it get in there?

            Driver A:? 

            Driver A: I put it in there…                       

            Mrs. Wilitz: Well it’s not ours.  That must belong to The Willows.

            Driver A: Ok, I’ll return it.

            As Driver A picked up Mrs. Wilitz and her husband they stood there and watched as the two men (Driver A and the attendant from The Willows) struggled to fold up the rusty old wheelchair for a good minute and put it in the trunk.  It seems as if they had no idea that once it was folded up and placed in there that it would proceed to their final destination as well.

            Driver A works nights, often till 3 a.m.  The next morning one of the office workers, Bertha – the biggest one, called him to verify that the wheelchair had been returned.  At 9 a.m…

            I don’t like to get calls from the office about anything, much less to be woken up by them for such a trivial reason.  Driver A wasn’t happy and I can’t blame him.  Perhaps I’m wrong.  Perhaps Bertha and Mrs. Wilitz knew something that I didn’t.  Perhaps there is a thriving black market for dilapidated old wheelchairs.

June 17, 2008 – Taxi Life’s Not All Sour Grapes

            More often than not I get good fares.  Polite, respectful, intelligent people.  Generally we get pretty good clientele.  Mostly affluent locals, tourists, and people in town on business.  They’re not all sailors.

            I have a regular customer that I pick up.  He’s in that navy, and is by no means a dipshit.  His name is “Bob,” and he’s a vice admiral in the Navy.  The upper echelon if you will.  I enjoy talking with him, talking about the structured lifestyle that the Navy brings.  Talking about his experiences over the years.  Interesting stuff.  Smart guy.  I often pry, to see what I can find out.  I get interesting little stories here and there.  Jim sees my angle, and politely deflects my inquiries.  The ones of a more sensitive nature at least.  I admire him. 

This is a picture of "Bob" that I found online.

            Not like your typical enlisted guys, always talking about how drunk they were, or how many times they “scored.”   Stories that are embellished more often than not.  Especially the latter.

            Typically these are narrated in some sort of elementary fashion.  Their rudimentary vocabulary, usually consisting of several of the more common basic expletives or “cuss words.”  Bitch, shit, cunt, asshole, fuck, and a range of slurs are often their favorites.

        Just on my last ride I had three federal judges in my car.  They worked on the civil side of things.  Being somewhat versed on the topic of law, but by no means an expert, I found their conversation quite engaging.  Intriguing.  They dealt primarily with labor law and how discrimination becomes easily, and often subtly, intermingled within.

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…

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