September 11, 2008 – On The Can

             I spoke with one of the drivers on the cab stand today.   A driver who I won’t name.  A few days he had to stop by the office, which he dreads as well, to pay his cab lease.  He thought that he would stop by the bathroom while he was there.

            We’ve spoke at length about the office, and the lunacy that surrounds it.  Saturating it.  Particularly the religious stuff.   Particularly the stuff in the bathroom.  It seems that Catherine is under the impression that people enjoy reading passages from the bible while they pee and poop.  Well the driver in question, who we’ll call "Elmer", gave his take on the subject.  An expression of his own.

And look at the faucet, does that thing even turn on?  How will people wash away their sins?

September 7, 2008 – Mostafa

             Today Mostafa, another one of our Iraqi drivers, had a funny interaction with Catherine on the radio.  This was shortly after one of his fellow drivers called him out on the radio for stealing a ride.

            Driver C: Hey Mostafa, you just took my ride.  I was sent here for the people who you just  picked up.

            Mostafa: No, they didn’t call.

            Driver C: Yeah, they did.  And I was the one that they sent, not you.

            Mostafa: No, they’re different.

            Mostafa happened to be closer to the call and just decided to pick up the people who were waiting.  This happens all the time, and us honest drivers (all 4 of us) don’t much like it.  We’ve tried to talk to the offenders personally, and went through the office to no avail.  There’s no punishment handed down for this sort of thing.  Not by the office at least.  That didn’t prevent Franco from getting his nose broken though.  An informal punishment.

            This quickly escalated between Mostafa and the fellow drivers to the point where Catherine decided to intervene.  Not for the sake of the driver whom had his ride stolen though, but for the sake of keeping the radio quiet.  Catherine is under the impression that if customers in the cabs hear any bickering between the drivers that they will be outraged and refuse to ride with the company, or call the city, which is what scares Catherine most.  She thinks that these supposedly disenfranchised passengers are going to come to city council meetings and complain about the service.  Unfathomable, simply unfathomable…

            Catherine: Cab 18 (Mostafa)

            Mostafa: Cab 18 go ahead.

            Catherine: Landline the office. (Call the office)

            Mostafa: No thanks.

            Catherine: Landline the office.

            Mostafa: No, I’m not doing that.  Maybe later I will

            Catherine: (Not realizing that she still had her finger keying the mic) Boy, he’s got a mouth on him.

            This is just another example of Catherine’s lack of control over the employees.  Truthfully the employees run the show.  They could probably run the company better too.  Hell, they might even incorporate technology… Perhaps they would even use a computer?  Catherine probably has a series of stone tablets that she carves notes onto.

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 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.

August 6, 2008 – Fat Cabbie

            One of my fellow coworkers told me a funny story today.    The previous night Jefferson had been sitting outside of the local Irish bar.   A drunk man came out of the bar and asked to pay with a credit card.  Jefferson said that he didn’t accept credit cards.  An argument ensued.

            Customer: Why not?

            Jefferson: I’m not set up for it.  I’m sorry.

            Customer: NO. I’m paying with credit card.

            Jefferson: We can stop by an ATM if you would like.

            Customer: You’re just a fat cabbie and that’s all you’re going to ever be.

            Jefferson: Perhaps, but you’re acting like a child who doesn’t get his way.

            The man then just stormed off inside the bar.  A few minutes later he came out and apologized and agreed to withdraw funds from the nearest ATM.

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 17, 2008 – Lois’s Condition

Lois's Lair

          Today I had an interesting conversation with Jefferson about Lois.  You may remember her, the lady with the garbage house.  Jefferson explained how he was dissatisfied with riding with her, as all of the other drivers are, and how much of a pain in the ass Lois was.  Turns out Lois had a pain in her ass as well – which she felt the need to tell Jefferson about.  It wasn’t so much a pain as a condition perhaps.  Lois thought Jefferson would enjoy having her explain her current affliction – the one about her bloody diarrhea.  Surprisingly Jefferson wasn’t interested, or hungry anymore for that matter.

http://corruptionincortez.blogspot.com/2011/12/june-4-2008-garbage-house.html

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 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 23, 2008 – Sliced Finger

           Today when I went to retrieve my radio from its mount on the dash I sliced my finger.  There is a circular, steel, button like looking object on the back of my mic (the part of the radio that you speak into) that fits into a steel receiver on the dash.  Over the years after repeated friction between the two parts the receiver had developed a razor sharp edge.  In my haste I misaligned the two parts and guided my finger across the receivers edge.  It was a pretty good slice actually.   This was followed by an array of expletives that was as colorful as the people that work here.

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 20, 2008 - If These Walls Could Talk

            So today I took a day off of work to help a friend pick a couch in Palm Springs form his parents house.  I found this house along the way that had been completely ransacked.  I took some photos of what I found.  I don't remember where exactly where I found this but it was somewhere near the edge of Riverside County off of route 60.

          I left the scene with an empty feeling.  Someone had thoughtlessly destroyed someone else's property.  It was clear where their anger was directed.  As they say, the "Writing's on the Wall."

There were these creepy childrens toys scattered about.

This was a bees nest had been formed in a hole created in the drywall.

Some creepy shit.  I desatured the photo, but kept the red spray paint around the skull.

"Broken Homes"

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 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…

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 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.