August 24, 2008 – More About Catherine’s Credit Card Swindle

            So there has been growing discontent amongst the drivers on the topic of credit cards.  Or perhaps more specifically the forcing of drivers to take credit cards.  Catherine put out the word that this is something that we must comply with as it is something that is regulated and necessitated by the City of Cortez.  A few days ago one of our drivers talked with one of the higher-ups within the city government and asked point blank whether or not the city required taxi drivers to accept credit cards.  An answer was received – an unequivocal NO.  Catherine had told a lie.

            Shortly afterwards the driver went to the office and asked Catherine whether or not we are required to take credit cards.  Catherine told him “sometimes we need to take the iniative and step up and do things before the city requires us to do so.”  Apparently Catherine had forgotten that only a week or so prior she had explicitly stated that taking credits was a citywide requirement.

            And recently I heard something that really angered me.  Supposedly Catherine has a mission down in Mexico that she contributes too.  The fact that she operates a mission, or that it is in Mexico,  is not the issue.  What is an issue is that she obviously has a surplus of money, enough so that she is able to donate to nonessential causes such as this but refuses to outfit her company with clean, safe, dependable vehicles.  That should be priority number one.  All too often myself and other drivers have had to lose a days pay because our cab has broken down.

            I’ve already caught Catherine in a number of mistruths.  For example requiring that we pick up EVERYONE.  Everyone?  How about someone that wants to start a fight, doesn’t have money, doesn’t know where they are going, someone who just shit their pants.  No, we most certainly do 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.

June 30, 2008 – Julie Gets Worked Up

Today Julie got a little worked up on the radio.  Nothing like her usual tantrums though.  Today she had the foresight to turn off the radio and cut her losses.

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.

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 14, 2008 – Gomez Jr.

            Turns out I’m not the only driver who has outbursts on the radio.  Today I heard a great one out of  Gomez.  Catherine has this obnoxious habit of trying to micromanage every move we make.  When it gets busy it’s even worse – today we were busy.

            So when we arrive back in Cortez, or drop off our passengers within the city limits and are available for fares once again, we tell the office that we are “On the bridge” (to Cortez) or  that we’re “clear” (if we dropped off within the city limits.)   Often when Catherine is dispatching she wants to know EXACTLY where we are.   In all fairness, this is done to provide speedy service to customers, and it works well in theory.

            When it is busy and a driver drops a passenger off making them available for a call once again, there are often several people who have already called the office to request a cab.  It usually makes sense to send the driver to the closest call.  There’s nothing wrong with efficiency.  But there’s a difference between being efficient and manic.  Gomez doesn’t like being micromanaged any more than I do…

            Gomez: Cab 17

            Catherine: Cab 17 go ahead

            Gomez: I’m clear.

            Catherine: Ok your clear wheeerrreee?

            Gomez: By the beach.

            Catherine: Which section of the beach are you clear at?

            Gomez:  (Annoyed) I’m clear at the beach.

            Catherine: I need to know where on the beach you cleared.

            Gomez:  …BY THE TRASHCAN.

            Catherine:  ….Ok, go to 118 Tangerine St.

            Gomez:10-4

            Catherine: Teeeeennn  Fooouuurrrrr

            Good for Gomez.  I got a good chuckle out of this whole exchange.  What a ridiculous question.   The beach is half a mile long, so if he was at the other far side of the beach it may take up to a minute longer to get to the next call – not a big deal. 

            Catherine isn’t too fond of Gomez.   He doesn’t play ball in her eyes.  A non-conformist.  Once Catherine told another employee that she would rather get punched in the stomach than talk to Gomez.  That doesn’t strike me as a compliment…

            This is video that Gomez posted on the internet.  Gomez currently lives in  Tijuana (Mexico) because he claims that “In Mexico you’re still free.”  He also claims that there is human shit in the streets.  One of the drivers suggested that maybe it was dog shit.  Gomez replied (with emphasis) “Oh no, these were big”.

            Apparently in Mexico your neighbors have “angry goats” that terrorize your pets and damage your house. If that were not enough, people will come on to your land and steal your horse.  Gomez had wanted a horse all his life.  It was a dream of his, and someone stole it. Oh, and dinosaurs too – says Gomez.  Perhaps Mexico isn’t marketing itself right.  Maybe the theme should something like “Come visit Mexico, and experience the land before time.”

         For those of you who aren't familiar with "The Land Before Time", it is a popular childrens movie from the late 1980's.

June 12, 2008 – Our Mechanic Stanley

Before me with a not so bright look on his face stands our mechanic Stanley cackling away.  I can’t help but stare at the three metal screws sticking out of his upper jaw.  There are no teeth, just the three metal spikes that likely held them at some point.  Man, meth must be a hell of a drug…  He thinks that the company is a big pile of crap as well so we have something in common.

I don't have a picture of "Stanley", but this is what he'd look like with a beard...

Nice guy when he isn’t stealing our gas and causing us to lose time at work from the new parts that Catherine buys, when she actually decides to buy new parts, and replacing them with old.   Sometimes the parts he puts in are broken to begin with. 

One of our drivers, Jefferson, was having issues with the battery in his taxi.  Jefferson came to the determination that it needed a new battery.  He took the time to bring his taxi to the shop and that did whatever it is that they do there and replaced the battery, or so he was led to believe…  The problem kept occurring and Jefferson kept bringing the taxi to the shop for battery related problems.  On the fourth trip Jefferson was pretty irritated and asked Stanley personally about the problem.  It was at this juncture that Stanley simply giggled and nonchalantly admitted that he had never changed the battery.

What Stanley had been doing was merely washing the battery to make it appear to new, while doing who knows what with the new batteries, and telling Catherine that the car had been fixed.  I’m willing to bet that he was selling them and keeping the money, while Jefferson was getting screwed out of time at work that he could have been making money, not to mention the frustration of dealing with the office.

Then there’s the side business of stealing gas.  It’s fairly obvious, one of the other mechanics even volunteered that he saw Stanley doing this first hand.  Not too long ago I brought my taxi into the shop for a repair.  I brought it in with a full tank of gas.  When I got my cab back there was only  two thirds of a tank left.  So I called the office.

Me: Hi Catherine, I picked up my car from the shop yesterday and it was short of gas.  I’ll go ahead and submit a receipt for the shortage when I pay my lease.

Catherine: *****, when we fix something on a car we take it for a test drive to make sure it has been fixed.

Me: $27 worth?  Where did he test drive it to?

Catherine: Ok *****, I’ll credit you this time.

What a sweetheart.  I guess it would be too much to admit that her mechanic is stealing our gas by siphoning it out of our cars.  I’m not the only driver who has complained about this by the way.   Surely if I made a direct accusation Catherine would want some concrete proof like video evidence or something.  I mean why fix problems when you can just deny them right?  That seems to be the trend.

In addition to selling parts and stealing gas. Stanley makes his money selling  shitty weed, he has a big jar that he keeps it in over at the shop.  I’d never buy weed from Stanley, actually I’d be reluctant to buy anything that he has had his grubby hands on.  Apparently this isn’t enough to pay his debtors though.

A few days ago a few large men came to the office and had a word with Stanley off in the distance.  I wasn’t there that day but Jefferson saw the whole thing.  Stanley was just getting SCREAMED AT!

Jefferson: What was that about?

Stanley: I owe those guys some money.  It’s been a bit and they’re not happy.

Jefferson: How much do you owe them?

Stanley: $200

Jefferson: That sounds bad.  Here’s $200.  You can pay me back next week.

Stanley: Thanks so much Jefferson.

Jefferson’s a stand up guy.  It pains me to see people like Jefferson working here.  Someone with so much potential.  Why am I still here anyways?  I can’t stand these clowns.  I actually got offered a job with the government a while back, but the pay was shit.  Here I stand, the master of reflection.  So many questions…

Who knows what would have happened to Stanley if he didn’t pay those men.  Although, if he isn’t able to pay two large angry men, I don’t know what the chances of him paying Jefferson back are…

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.

June 4, 2008 – The Garbage House

            Just got a call.  Von’s grocery store in the back.  Typically these are not good calls, god bless em’, but usually they are some senior citizen that is going for a ride of less than half a mile – hence, a bad ride.  Most people seem to think that we like these short rides.  WE DO NOT.  Sometimes we sit around for 3 hours on a slow day waiting to get a ride, so if we get a ride from the grocery store for 6 blocks and make 6 dollars, that means that we have just made 2 dollars per hour for the last three hours, not to mention that we have to pay roughly $60 per day to use the taxi.  So, it’s more like we just paid $54 dollars to become frustrated.  I’m no math whiz but that just doesn’t add up in my book.  Usually they are nice little old ladies though so you cant really be mad at them, anyways that’s what we are here for I guess.

            Well, this isn’t just some little old lady.  This is the grumpy, old bag that lives at 432 E. Street.  We’ll call her Lois.  We all hate picking her up.  She knows that the fare is exactly 5 dollars to her house, so she demands to be paid up front (which we aren’t required to do since the meter goes by time as well as distance), makes you fold up her walker and put it into the trunk, and complains the whole way home about something or another.  This time was no exception… 

            Once one of our drivers named Roldando brought her home a few days ago, but started the meter as soon as he got to the grocery store and it ran as he loaded her and her belongings into the car.  When he got to her house it was $7.60 and she wasn’t paying.   I heard that he called the cops, I’d love to have seen that.  I kind of doubt that actually happened, but nothing shocks me with this company anymore.

Another time one of our drivers, Jefferson, dropped her off at her house and walked her to the door.  When he peeked inside there were just boxes and boxes everywhere.  And it smelled like cat shit.  Just like in that TV show “Hoarders.”  For those of you who don’t know, “Hoarders” is a cable television show about people who have basically given up on life (mostly obese old women) and how they are living in squalor.  They collect, and save, pretty much everything that they can get their hands on.  Sometimes they find dead cats under underneath piles of rubble.  When Jefferson dropped Lois off she noticed that he had caught a glance of her lair.

Lois: Someone’s coming to clean that up tomorrow

Jefferson: (With a suspicious nod) Mmmm hmmm.

From how the place had been described, it would have looked something like this.

            Jefferson said that it looked like the place hadn’t been cleaned in years.  What are the chances that the place was scheduled to be cleaned after years of neglect immediately after an outsider caught a peek inside?  What a coincidence…

June 3, 2008 – Cannonball!

This is hilarious.  I don't ever remember watching this but I believe it used to be an old MTV skit.  Something that they would play during commercial breaks.  It pains me to see what comes to mind when people think of your typical cab driver - or perhaps your quintessential cab driver...

June 1, 2008 – A Fistful of Dollars

            Today I brought a group of Asians to the Airport.  What part of Asia they were from, that I’ll never know.   They looked like they were from Japan perhaps?  They were talking amongst themselves on the way there, I have no idea what about.  They were most likely here for the biotech convention.  Our convention center is enormous, sometimes we get conventions upwards of 120,000 people.  That’s our biggest one at least.  It’s called “Comic Con.”

This is a photo I shot from the San Diego Convention Center a while back.  I'm facing Northeast.  Truthfully I'd wished that it had turned out a little better, you don't get those rich dark skies when there are clouds.  They seem to trap the light which gives everything an orangish glow, and a warmer color temperature.  This is also due in large part to sodium vapor light typically found in street lamps.  Tungsten bulbs give off a whiter/cooler look (the lights inside of the railing) and are, in my opinion, much more pleasing for night photography.  These color casts can be minimized by shooting in black and white at night.  The same photo is pictured below, in black and white.  I used photoshop and bumped up the brightness a bit and toned down the highlights (the lights on the staircase).  There are like four huge staircases going up to the top.

            When we got to the airport they were frantically digging around I their pockets.  They just gave me a handful of money, probably $25 or so.  The fare was $23.60.  Then they gave me another handful, and another, and another.  They thanked me over and over and scurried out of the car.  It took me a minute to straighten out all of the crumpled bills.  When it was over I came away with $63.   It was a good day.

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 14, 2008 - The San Diego Zoo

             Just a few pictures I took at the San Diego Zoo today.  Although if I wanted to see animals I could have just went into work.  The ones at the Zoo seem much more civil though.

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 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 10, 2008 – Jorge’s Junk Mail

             I heard another funny story about Lenny today.   Turns out that Lenny receives mail for Jorge.  Jorge lives in Tijuana (big surprise), when he isn’t living in the taxi that is.  I’m guessing to work for the taxi company he has to have a United States address listed as his place of residence.  You might think that speaking English and showering were requirements as well.  Not so.

            Lenny collects Jorge’s mail for him – and sells it to him, for a dollar per item.   What a nice guy that Lenny is.  Real sweetheart.  Even the junk mail, although I doubt that Jorge get’s too many credit card offers.  I bet the supermarket circulars don’t waste their time with him.  He must not know about P.O. boxes.  Jorge doesn’t strike me as someone who get’s many important letters.  I doubt many people probably know he’s even alive.   I didn’t know myself till I saw him moving in the taxi. 

What can you get for a dollar nowadays anyways?  I'm fully aware of the rudimentary nature of my drawings and I don't care, I think they're cute.  Catherine, probably not so much...

April 18, 2008 – Lenny

             So let me tell you about Lenny…  Lenny’s been with the company for some time now, as is reflected by his attitude.  There seems to be a correlation between the amount time a driver has been with the company and their morale.  A positive correlation I might add.  And lets not get a positive correlation confused with a positive attitude.  At any rate, suffice it to say that Lenny isn’t too happy with things here at Cortez Cab.

            Lenny isn’t exactly an ideal employee, in Catherine’s eyes at least.  I have to admit that it’s becoming less and less clear exactly what that is nowadays…  Lenny gives me a good laugh though.  I like him and he’s a nice guy.  Not to be confused with an honest guy though.

            I picked up a lady from 123 Tangerine Avenue the other day, who we'll call Mrs. Smith.  Nice lady.  Our conversation quickly centered on a particular driver.

            Me: Hi

            Mrs. Smith: Hello, how are you.

            Me: I’m well.  Where are you off to?

            Mrs. Smith: I’m going to the airport.  Southwest please.

            Me: Sure

Mrs. Smith: You seem like a nice driver.  Who’s the ***** guy who drives the van?

Me: That’s Lenny.  Why do you ask?

Mrs. Smith: He tried to steal $100 from my son last time he went to the airport.

Me:  That doesn’t surprise me in the least.  Unfortunately Lenny is known for that sort of thing.

Mrs. Smith: He took my son to the airport and was given $100.  (The fare was probably about $24 at this point.  My son gave asked for $70 back.  He said that he got out of the taxi and started to walk to Lenny’s window after getting his bags out and Lenny just drove off.  My son called me what happened and I called the company and told them to send the taxi that picked up my son back to my house so that I could have a word with him.  When the driver got here I told him that I would take the entire hundred dollars back.  He didn’t say anything.  He just gave me the money and walked back to his car.

Me: Yeah, our boss is well aware of the behavior of some of our employees.  I apologize for that.  I can’t believe that he though that your son wouldn’t notice.

Mrs. Smith: He stole that money.

Me: I’m sorry about that.  Here’s my card, so if you want you can call me directly.

Mrs. Smith:  Thank you.  I will do that.

          Another dissatisfied customer.  Lenny’s lucky that she didn’t call Catherine, or the police for that matter.  In addition to most likely violating some company policy (Although I suppose you could plead ignorance on this one since there are no defined company policies) and being dishonest, Lenny committed theft. 

          Why is there no formal written company policy anyways?  I’ve never heard of such a thing.  It’s like Catherine just makes up rules on the fly.  Also, then an employee can’t say that something isn’t violating company policy – because there isn’t one!  It’s purely discretionary.  If something is completely discretionary I would think that it might make sense to have a someone who isn’t off balance making judgment calls.

          One time one of our drivers was pulling into one hotels when a man on bicycle was flying down the street not paying attention and crashed right into the side of the taxi.  The bicycler hit it so hard that the front fork on his bike broke.  The police came, it was quite a scene.  The bicycler was adamant that it was not the taxi drivers fault.  Oh did I mention that the guy on the bicycle was drunk?

          None of this dissuaded Catherine however.  How did she react?  She reacted by castigating the driver for not being more careful and tried to instate a new policy so that drivers couldn’t cross the street to go into the hotel drive anymore.  They would have to leave the taxi stand, drive up the street to the stop light, wait there until they got their green arrow (which can take 3 minutes sometimes), make a U-turn, and turn into the hotel.  How fucking silly is that?  And how does that insure that an accident would be avoided anyways?  I would have to think that a U-turn is a more dangerous maneuver than a left turn.  I think most rational people would agree.  All the drivers got a good laugh about this one.  I don’t think one single driver complied.

(I couldn't find a map that was big enough and not color coded.  The coding is due to the fact that it's a zoning map.  Just ignore that.)

Also, the hotel has a reputation for being impatient, and if we aren’t able to get there immediately then they are likely to just put the fare in an out of town cab.  This is illegal because we are the only company that currently is allowed to pick up within the city limits of Cortez.  Not because we have a “monopoly” as our mushy headed owner believes.

This is not to say that all of our drivers play by the rules either, although I believe that the misconduct on our sided is due in large part to situation such as the one at the hotel.

When Lenny drops someone off at the airport he looks to see if anyone else needs a ride.  This is strictly forbidden.  Not only by Catherine, but by the City of San Diego as well.  Taxi drivers need a special permit to pick up at the airport, and probably an additional one to pick up in San Diego (Since the airport is within the city limits).  If Lenny doesn’t find anyone at first glance he’ll simply circle the terminal until he finds a fare.

April 16, 2008 – The Crazy Lady Going To I.B.

            Picked up this real nut earlier.  She didn’t look like your typical weather beaten crazy on the street.   She actually seemed pretty normal at first.  Well dressed, articulate, polite, didn’t smell.  It’s always nice when your cab fares don’t smell, and for the most part they don’t.  Except if they’re in the Navy.  Then they usually do.

            So this lady was pleasant, and going to Imperial Beach.  Probably a $30 ride or so.  Anything over like $12 I consider to be a good ride.  The lady, who we’ll call “Beatrice”, was quite talkative.  Lots of questions, which I don’t mind, unless they are about “Taxicab Confessions” or “Cash Cab.”  I hate those questions.

            Beatrice was going off on and on about all of these backdoor political scandals, that apparently only she was privileged to know about.  The stories all seemed pretty feasible, and I didn’t really have any way of knowing because she was talking about CEO’s of major, but lesser known companies, and how they were all engaged in malfeasance in some form or another.  This was all premised by the “fact” that she was a lawyer, or an attorney as I believe they like to be called.  I thought that I heard that “lawyer” has a negative connotation attached to it. 

            Regardless. So as Beatrice keeps blabbering away I began to wonder.  First off, I don’t think lawyers are allowed to tell me about on going criminal cases.  I would just smile and nod.  That’s really the best way to deal with people like this.  Then she dropped the bomb on me.  She had “people” that were on to her.  After all, she was on to them.  She knew about their surreptitious dealings.  She told me that she could be killed for talking about this, yet she just kept blabbing away.  And what was the bombshell might you ask…?  Well it was that she had $20,000,000,000 in secrets stemming from political pawns to the upper echelons of Congress, and even the White House, sitting I a safety deposit box somewhere in San Diego.  That’s not a typo – 20 Billion.

            Really?  So why are you renting, in Imperial Beach of all places, in some run-down apartment building.  I mean if I had 20 billion dollars I sure as hell wouldn’t be living in Imperial Beach, in the hood.  It must be too dangerous right now to sell those secrets.  Perhaps the Russians are watching her.  It’s no problem to spill your guts to a total stranger though, a cabbie I might add…

            But there’s more...  As she got out Beatrice noticed a car in the dark alley.  Could it have been a government agent?  An assassin?  Someone getting off the night shift at work?  She ran out and jotted down the license plate and told me that I absolutely was forbidden to repeat anything that we talked about.  Until now.  I must break my silence.  The world needs to know…

April 14, 2008 – The Rim Turns?

           Heard a good one from a fellow driver the other day.  Bobby had brought the car into the shop yesterday to pay his lease, as many of the drivers do, when he bumped into Catherine.  Some small talk ensued.  I don’t like small talk – what’s the point?  It’s a little scripted for me, although admittedly, I can be a little brash – especially with that toilet mouth of mine.  I appreciate when people are direct, when they tell me what’s on their mind.  To a point that is.  Once years back when I worked at a gas station I ran into such a situation.

             Me: Hello

            Customer: Hi

Customer: Give me a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. (Please would have been nice)

              These are simply DREADFUL by the way.  Especially the ones in the orange pack.  I don’t ever want to be so poor that I have to smoke Pall Mall cigarettes.

            Me: Sure thing.  How’s the day going?

Customer: Shitty.  Just found out my wife’s pregnant.  She’s banging some other guy.  Kid’s not even mine.

Me: Oh.  Sorry to hear that… That’ll be $4.17.

              Not a very smooth transition, I was caught a little off guard though…  I don’t know what surprised me more that he would volunteer such intimate details of his life to a gas station attendant of all people, or that he was married.  It was strange nonetheless.  He was awkwardly staring at me as if waiting for a rebuttal of sorts.  I admit, I was a little confused.  And so I digress…

            So back to the case at hand, with Bobby and Catherine.  There was a problem, a big one – in Catherine’s eyes at least.  A scuff on the rim.  Bobby explained how the car had grazed a curb as it was pulling off of the road.

            Catherine: But Bobby, I don’t understand.

            Bobby: Why?

Catherine: I don’t understand why there isn’t damage to the fender (that surrounds the wheelwell.)

Bobby: Because I bumped into a curb.  It was only like 6 inches tall so it didn’t make contact with the body of the car.  Just the rim.

Catherine: Bobby.  The scuff is all the way up here though.  How can there be a scuff this high up on the rim without any damage to the body of the car?

Bobby just stood there stunned.

Bobby: The rim turns Catherine.  It was at a different position when I bumped the curb.  When I drove the car here it just happened to stop at a different point.  (In this case the wheel had rotated 180 degrees.)

Catherine: No, that doesn’t make sense. There would be damage higher up as well.

              I mean this is pretty basic shit.  You don’t have to be a mechanic to know this, although the mechanics that she hires probably don’t.  I use the term “hire” loosely as well – not really sure what sort of arrangement she has going. 

Hasn’t Catherine ever watched the Price is Right.  You know the part, when they spin that big fucking wheel to see who is going to get into the “Showcase Showdown.”   Guess what, it spins on a big axle as well. 
 

            Catherine probably thinks when one of Bob’s (not to be confused with Bobby) contestants spins that big wheel that it stops on a dollar every time.  Maybe she thinks the wheel is stationary and it's the room that's spinning.  I wonder if she thinks that the Earth is flat…  I mean she believes in Jesus.  Don’t get me wrong, everyone has the right to believe in whatever they please – no matter how silly those beliefs may be.

What's with this?  And where did all the cougars go?  You should be ashamed of yourself CBS.  By the way your station sucks.  All you do is Create Bullshit Sitcoms.  I'd rather smash my finger with a hammer than watch "Everybody Loves Raymond" or "The King of Queens."  Shameful.

Looks like Bob's still holding it down though.  Never looked better Bob.

            I go in and pay my lease at night just so I don’t have to deal with shit like this.  It makes me dizzy talking to those people.  I just drop my money in the little black safe – which is a joke in itself, I’ve seen sturdier mailboxes.