August 30, 2008 – A Funny Story From Robert Pervantes

            You remember Robert right?  You know, the creepy guy that wants you to drive around the block in circles while he stalks his sister’s boyfriend.   This time was no different but I kept the stalking (as directed by Robert) to a minimum.  Anyways, Robert told me a funny story.

            About a week ago one of our drivers “Nick” picked up Robert and drove him to Starbucks so that Robert could get some coffee.  Robert is disabled, possibly in a number of ways, but most noticeably by the fact that he walks with a crutch.  I’m not exactly sure what ails Robert.  Robert asked Nick if he could go inside and get some coffee.  Nick wasn’t interested and told Robert that he would need to do that himself.  Sure, it would have been a nice gesture to get Robert coffee, but in all fairness, it was a little forward for him to ask directly.  Robert is able to walk, albeit with the aid of a crutch.  Were taxi drivers, not errand runners.

            At any rate about 10 minutes later as Robert is walking out he trips and falls and gets stuck right in the swinging door in front of Starbucks.  Nick just sat there and watched as Robert flailed away like a fish on the beach.  An employee of Starbucks came and helped Robert to his feet and back into the taxi.  I could only imagine the awkwardness on the ride back.

             I had heard nothing about this until Robert brought it up.

            Robert:  I went to the Starbucks the other day and tripped and fell as I was walking out.  The      driver saw the whole thing.  He just sat in his taxi and stared.

            Me: Oh, yeah.

            Robert: Yeah, and then when he dropped me off he told me his name was “Gomez.”  I know Gomez, and that wasn’t Gomez.

            This is actually a game that a number of us drivers play.  Whenever we get a fare that we don’t much care for, we tell our passenger that our name is something else.  This is typically a driver that we really don’t care for.  Me, well, I say my name is “Kirk.”  He’s probably the biggest piece of shit out here, so I try to pass all of the crappy rides on to him.  Kirk’s not as stupid as he looks though.  He’s caught onto this, and now refuses to take personal requests from people he’s not familiar with.

            Gomez, well Gomez actually likes to pick up Robert, although I can’t imagine why… 

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.

August 4, 2008 - More Pictures From The Zoo (Not the one I work at)

Just a few more pictures I shot at the San Diego Zoo the other day.  It's actually pretty hard to get good pictures at the zoo.  But I like to try.

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 5, 2008 – Getting Kirk Excited

            Today someone was getting Kirk all excited again.  This seems to happen at least once a week.  Sometimes more.

            The reason that no one likes Kirk is because he’s an a-hole.   There was a new guy that started last week and tried to introduce himself.  He walked up to Kirk’s window.  Kirk just ignored him.  He didn’t even flinch.  Jack (the new driver) was in disbelief.

            Jack: I tried to talk to cab 83 (Kirk) earlier and he didn’t say anything.           

            Me: Yeah, that’s Kirk alright.  I wouldn’t bother with that guy.  Nobody here likes him.

            Jack: He didn’t even acknowledge me.  I know he heard me, his window was open.

            Me: Don’t worry, he’s like that to everyone.  He’s crazy, none of us like him.

            Jack: Thanks for letting me know.

            So anyways, like clockwork, one of the drivers began to pick on Kirk.  This usually happens when he comes into work for the day.

            Kirk: Cab 83

            Julie: Cab 83

            Kirk: 10-8, 10-30 (Back in service, send me an assignment)

            Julie: Go to the Vo-----(Click, Click, Click) and pic-------- (Click, Click, Click)

            Kirk: 10-9 (Repeat)

            Julie: Go to th---(Click, Click) and pick u---(Click, Click, Click, Click)

            Kirk: 10-9!

            Julie: Go to th----(Click, Click, Click, Click, Click…)

            Kirk: Some queers playing with the radio again.

            Julie: What’s wrong with you!


            The sad thing about Julie's question is that it wasn't directed at Kirk...  In her eyes Kirk wasn't the problem.

            I was sitting with another driver when this was all happening, waiting for a fare.  We both got a chuckle.  Calling people “queers” is a favorite past time of Kirk’s.  It’s his favorite insult for sure.  Other insults include calling people “Princess,” “Raghead,” “Asshole,” “Coward,” “Their highness” or  “Sissy white people” - just to name a few.  All of our customers and fellow drivers get to hear this as well because it is broadcast throughout our radio network.  This is all ok in Catherine’s eyes since Kurt is a “good worker” because he works 12-hour days EVERY day of the year.  A sociopath, but a “good worker” nevertheless.  But boy, if I forget to wear my black pants, well then, that’s a disaster.

You all remember Kirk right?  

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 25, 2008 – Another Traffic School

            They called it “Laugh for half” traffic school. Only 39.95, what a steal!  I would have called it “Feeling down and out, go ahead, frown and pout.”  I think that everyone should to go to traffic school at least once.  It’s a right of passage, a lesson in humility.  I don’t recommend that people attend half a dozen times like me.  I feel like I should be the instructor.  Whatever though, I deserved it.  Live and learn right.  After all, what could be better than being in La Mesa in a business park on a Saturday afternoon for 8 hours...

June 20, 2007 - The New Job

            Ever since I moved to Southern California I have been in job hunt mode, until now.  I found an advertisement for a cab company looking for airport shuttle drivers.  From what I gather the job consists of picking up customers at the airport for a flat rate and bringing them to their destination.  The drivers are paid an hourly rate that is often supplemented with tips from the passengers.  After a talk with the company owner, Catherine, I was persuaded to work as a taxi driver, rather than a shuttle/livery driver.  For now Catherine is going to pair me up with a seasoned cab driver so show me the ropes.

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 2, 2008 – The Hidden Compartment

            Thump, thump, thump…

            That’s never a good sign.  I exited the taxi and took a look around.  It was a flat tire, as I had suspected.  I really hate changing tires, especially on these cars.  They’re filthy.  With tires like these it’s no surprise that there are blowouts. 

            So here I am, staring blankly into an empty trunk.  Oh sure there were things in there, just nothing useful.  There was Windex, some old oily rags, and a musty smell.  Oh yeah, there was a shitty old spare tire – but once again, nothing useful.  I pull out the spare, which was pretty low on air, not much better than my flat tire I might add.  But there’s a problem, there’s no jack.  That’s sort of an important step – to jack up the car.  To my surprise there was a tire iron.  I call the office.

            Me: Hi Julie, is Catherine there?

            Julie: Ugh, hold on.

            Catherine: Hello

            Me: Hey Catherine, it’s *****

            Catherine: What’s the problem?

            Me: I have a flat tire and there doesn’t seem to be a jack in the car.

            Catherine: Did you check the trunk?

            Me: …Yes Catherine, I looked in the trunk.

            Catherine: Did you check in the side compartment?

Me: Well, I’m not exactly sure where that is but I’ve looked everywhere in the trunk.           

Catherine: I’ll come over.

So this took a good 45 minutes or so.  It probably took so long because she let Earl driver her over.  I’d never get behind the wheel with that guy, some of Cortez’s residents feel that way as well.  Yeah, he’s still driving people around in his late 80’s.   Unreal.  And what the fuck was with her asking if I had looked in the trunk?  I just wanted to say something like “No, I’ve just been looking in the glove box” or “I already checked my pockets, I don’t know where else it could be.”  Give me a little credit.

So Catherine walks over to the trunk, grabs a felt panel, and peels it back.  No shit, there’s a secret compartment in the trunk.   I never would have found this.  Turns out that I’m not the only driver who has had issues looking for the jack here.  How am I supposed to know about this.  There’s no marking, labeling, or visible seam to hint that there is a hidden compartment.  Catherine just gave me a funny look as if I wasted her time, and truthfully I did, but if she had just explained a little better this all could have been prevented. 

Luckily I had brought a change of clothes with me – namely a black shirt.  Catherine has adopted a uniform policy where drivers can wear black pants and a white, black or yellow collared shirt.  Not many of the drivers follow this.  I usually wear t-shirts because they are more comfortable.  I’ve never once heard a customer complain about what I was wearing.  Catherine claims that customers complain about how I am dressed all the time.  Really, a clean t-shirt and jeans?  I drive a taxi not a limo.

I’m not sure exactly who it is, but it’s become fairly obvious that Catherine has drivers that keep and eye on things for her.  Most likely one of the daytime drivers, there’s quite a few ass kissers during the day that try to get brownie points from the office.  They mainly keep watch for unimportant things like who is wearing the required company uniform.  The office used to send one of the workers out on surveillance missions with a camera to take a picture of anyone who wasn’t wearing the “official colors.”  There are some drivers who wear the same black shirt, or white or yellow for that matter, for days on end.  By the third or fourth day they are covered with b.o. and stains from eating on the road.  This is all ok though…

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 17, 2008 – Malik

            One of the drivers has been causing me a bit of a headache lately.  Malik is his name.

            Julie: Cab 44

            Me: Cab 44

            Julie: Go to the Lowes to pick up

            Me: 10-4

            Malik: I’m closer, can I have that call.

            Me: Thank you Malik, but I’m already on my way.

            Malik: I’m closer, I should get it.

            Julie: Fine take it Malik!

            This is a bunch of shit.  I was given that call and he isn’t much closer (at least where he says he is).  The office likes to give calls to whoever is closest usually.  This isn’t really fair in my opinion – especially when you get dishonest drivers who claim that they are somewhere that they are not.  Malik is no exception.  As usual, Catherine’s rationale for this is rooted in irrationality. 

Ever waited for a cab?  Sure you have, it takes a long time right?  Possibly 30 minutes?  This is unheard of in Cortez.   You NEVER have to wait more than 15 minutes, and even that is rare.  Usually it is anywhere from 2 – 6 minutes.  So if Malik was where he said that he was he would have probably gotten there about 1 – 2 minutes earlier than I would have.  I can’t imagine that many people would be up in arms about this.  I don’t think anyone’s going to be that angry about their cab taking 8 minutes instead of 6…  But drivers that keep a pee jug and chicken bones under their car seat, smell like shit, and work 90 hour work weeks, oh that’s fine though…

Problem was that he wasn’t there, he was directly behind me in traffic.  Malik was caught in another lie.

            Me: Hey Malik, what’s your 20 (your location)?

            Malik: I’m almost there.

            Me: Really, you’re right behind me.

            Malik: I don’t know you are talking about.

            Me: I think you do.  Looks like you were lying.

            Later I saw Malik and the cab stand and he came out and smiled and asked why I was giving him a hard time.  I explained that I was giving him a hard time because what he was doing pretty much amounted to stealing from me.  He didn’t feel the need to apologize, or even admit any wrongdoing.  This really steamed me.  Being questioned why I pointed out that he was breaking the rules?  How dare I!

            Not really sure why I bother though, there seems to be no punishment here for this sort of thing.  Catherine just pretends that things like this don’t happen.  If that weren’t bad enough she’s bold enough to suggest that I misinterpreted the situation.  To say that there is nothing that she could or would do about it would be one thing.  But to try to convince me the perhaps I am imagining these things, or worse, that I am the real problem by pointing out Malik's misbehavior over the radio – well that’s just insulting.  Perhaps what is most frustrating is that problems like this could easily be fixed, if nothing else sitting the driver down and having a word with them.  Just letting them know that this won’t be tolerated would probably be sufficient in most cases.  A system of write-ups perhaps, you know like how normally functioning companies operate?  The key word here is “functioning.”

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.

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.

April 6, 2008 – The Rules Of The Road

          Driving around lately I’ve noticed that not everyone out there seems to be too familiar with the rules of the road.  Not necessarily laws, but courtesy and common decency as well.

1. This is a huge pet peeve of mine.  When you are driving parallel to me and to the rear and you see me put on my turn signal.  Don’t speed up and try to block me from moving over.  This is rude, and dangerous.  Don’t try to be sly and stare straight ahead as you do this to avoid eye contact.  We both know that you’re an asshole.  I see what you are planning on doing and I’ll just move over anyways.  I’ve dealt with your kind before.  All you’ll be able to do is slam on your brake’s and curse in your car.  Have a little dignity.

2. If we are stopped in traffic and you see me with my signal on, let me in.  It’s polite and won’t prolong your trip.  If you don’t let me in I’ll just point the nose of my car in and go anyways.  All you can do is sit there steaming mad in your shitty little Honda. Yeah, the one with the coffee can muffler.  You’ll look ridiculous. 

3. Don’t tailgate me.  If you feel I am going too slow you can either pass me or change lanes.  If you persist I’ll may slam on my brakes and give you one hell of a scare.  If you rear-end me it’s your fault and you’ll be getting the ticket.

4. You know those entrance ramps that lead on to the freeway, you know why they’re so long?  It’s so you have time to get up to freeway speed.  Don’t try to enter the freeway going 35 mph.  That’s dangerous.  Also, it’s YOUR duty to merge onto the freeway, it’s not my responsibility to accommodate you.  It’s not safe for me to have to suddenly slow to 35 mph.

5. Use your turn signal.  Often times I see people looking over to the lanes to the right or left and trying move over.  Then they’re angry that no one will let them in.  At any rate, you have no right to get mad at someone who won’t let you in if you don’t use your turn signal.  If your turn signal doesn’t work you can use a hand signal.

6. Don’t block the intersection during rush hour.  You’ll be pretty embarrassed when someone needs to cross and you may get blasted with a horn or two, and rightfully so I might add. 

7.  When I use my turn signal, slow to a stop in the right lane and put my reverse lights guess what I am doing.  See that open parking meter 20 feet behind me to the right?  Could I be parking there…?  WHAT THE FUCK ELSE WOULD I BE DOING!  Why don’t people don’t understand this.   Don’t pull directly behind me so I can’t back up.  You’ll get flustered.  You’ll look ridiculous.  And I won’t be moving unless it means that I will be backing into that parking spot.

"See It, Touch It, Trust It." ?

April 3, 2008 - Catheter Cab

           Today a new nickname was coined for one of our fellow drivers.  His taxi in particular.  “Catheter Cab”. Not too long ago one of our other drivers, Bogna, who’s a piece of work herself, found a little surprise under Jorge’s seat.  What was it might you ask.  Oh, well it was a milk carton full of pee.  Jorge though he was being sly when he told her that it was “lemonade.”  Lemonade?  Really?  Bet it didn’t smell like lemonade…

            Jorge pretty much never leaves his car for anything.  Not even to go to the bathroom.  I hope that he doesn’t poop in there, although I wouldn’t be surprised.  I’d imagine that at some point in his 19 hour shift he would need to go number 2.    What would he tell Bogna that the poop was?  Cupcakes? Brownies?  Whatever Jorge said would probably be illegible anyways.   You ever find a frequency between two radio stations that pulls in a little from each channel.  They overlap, like Jorge’s Spanish and English, although here it sounds like the Spanish station is in much closer proximity.  I’m always amazed when people move here and reside in the states for years and never seem to acquire an English proficiency greater than that of a 7 year old.  My coffee table probably has better English, and people skills, than Jorge.  The microwave too.

            Another time one of the drivers happened to find chicken bones under the seat.  Why would you discard the bones under the seat?  Me, I’d probably throw them out the window.  At least if I was Cortez.  They probably have had to hire an extra employee to pick up all of my trash.  I could be creating jobs for people.  Maybe they would put a detective on the case, although given what I’ve seen so far I’d have no reason to be worried.  They seem pretty harmless.  Don’t get me wrong, I think police do a great service to the community, however I think that their attention could be focused elsewhere sometimes.  Here in candy ass Cortez at least.  Underage smoking, jaywalking, and walking home drunk don’t strike me as huge problems.

            “Catheter Cab” seems fitting but I’ve come up with a few nicknames of my own.  How about “Commode Cab”? “Toilet Taxi?”  Maybe “Cadaver Cab.”  Son of a bitch looks half dead most of the time anyways.   Maybe it has something to do with his 90 hour workweeks.  I can only imagine how many transportation regulations he is violating.  He used to have rows of books piled up on the dash.  So tall that you would have trouble seeing over them. One of the drivers said that Catherine became aware of this and told Jorge that he isn’t able to live in the car anymore – one of the few sane things that I have ever heard of her doing by the way.  Jorge would just work as many hours as he was physically able to do without passing out and then go to sleep in the back.  Whenever he woke up he would go back to work.