August 27, 2009 – Cheaper Last Time?

            Sailor: How much to I.B. (Imperial Beach)

            Me: Upwards of $25.

            Sailor: What do you mean?

            Me: $25 to the front end of I.B., the closest part.

            Sailor: So how much to where I’m going?

            Me: Where do you want to go?

            Sailor: By the 5 (Interstate 5).

            Me:  Around $28.

            Sailor: It was $20 last time.

            Me: No it wasn’t.

            Sailor: Yeah, so will you do it for $20.

            Me: No.

            Sailor: Well that’s what it was last time.

            Me:  I don’t set the rates, the city does.  They are set by mileage, and             whatever the meter comes out to is going to be your fare.  I can take             whatever route that you would like me to, but it’s going to be at least $27.

            Sailor: Ok

                        We arrive 15 minutes later…

           

            Me: $27.40

            Sailor: Ok. (Gives me exactly 27.40).

            Me: Thanks

            Sailor: Sorry, I’d give more but that’s all I got.

            Me: Wow, you must really be good at estimation.  If the meter rolled over another 20 cents I guess we would be in trouble huh.

            Sailor: (Confused) Yeah.

I had asked a tough question…

August 19, 2009 – Cat Séance

           I like talking with Jefferson.  We find common ground on a variety of topics – politics, the cab company, humor, etc.  Today the conversation segued into the topic of past living situations.  We’ve all had them, and lived with strange people at one point or another.

            Previous to his current situation, the one where he lives with Randy, he lived with an odd lady named Ingrid.  She had several cats, but the one that she was closest to had died.  One night when Jefferson came home, he walked into what can only be described as a “Cat Séance” of sorts.  They were all at a table with candles and the cat was lying right there in the middle of it.  He could not tell if any communication had been made…

(You'll have to excuse my lazily photoshopped graphic, these take much time, and unfortunately, that has been in short supply lately. 

            In an odd turn of events, when Jefferson had agreed to let Randy come and live with him, Jefferson’s cat “Tigger” had mysteriously died on the very first day.  Jefferson was not happy.  Tigger had lived to the ripe old age of 14.  There would be no attempt at reaching out to the spirits with Tigger.

Big in Russia

      Strangely enough, most of my audience is coming from Russia nowadays.  Perhaps because I enabled Transliteration in Russian?

August 8, 2009 – I Get In Fender-Benders Like They’re Going Out of Style

           Yep, another one.  Same things that happens every time.  An overly timid driver darts into traffic and panics, slamming on their breaks.  In anticipation of them being a good driver, I see them moving forwards and anticipate them having the courage to merge.  They do not.  It’s really hard to describe the intersection unless you see it.  It’s a mess.

            It’s my fault, although not my fault alone.  The girl was nice about it.  She lives in PB and her car gets hit all of the time she tells me.  We go separate ways.  I think part of the problem is that I’m just so tired.  Perhaps it was because I was up smoking pot till 4 a.m.  That’s the only thing that makes this job tolerable.  I’ve been slamming a few beers, and eating chunks of cheese and just going to bed – but I like smoking better.

            I would just get a medical marijuana card and be done with it, but I’d still be violating federal transportation regulations.  That would be fine though, because Catherine’s never heard of it.

Get this –

            Recently a driver was given a random drug test.  He tested positive for Marijuana.  Catherine then told him that he couldn’t continue to work here.  When he explained that he was prescribed Marijuana for medical purposes Catherine was dumbfounded.  She had never heard of California’s Medical Marijuana Initiative…

Never even heard of it -

            Mysteriously, about a month later all the drivers were brought in to sign a new contract with company.  The reason?  They had lost all of the old contracts and needed the drivers to sign the “exact same” contracts.  I wondered how they disappeared right out of the file cabinet?  The office had lied, they weren’t exactly the same.  There was an addendum stating that being prescribed Marijuana for medical purposes would not be allowed by company employees. 

August 6, 2009 – Headlights, a Luxury at Cortez Cab

             I’ve discovered yet another problem with my cab.  That the fucking headlights don’t work!!!

            Well, in all fairness, they do work – albeit intermittently.  It’s really hard to predict.  Sometimes they work for weeks at a time, sometimes minutes.  As the headlights cut out they emit (well, something emits) a high-pitched buzzing.  It’s really fucking embarrassing.  Often times there are customers in the car.  I explain a little bit about how our company works.  They’re usually understanding, and often sympathathetic.  The operation is really pretty unbelievable to those of us with any inkling of sanity.

            What’s the fix?  Well, the fix is driving in the dark for about 10 seconds with the headlights off.  You just have to turn the headlights off, but you can leave the little amber running lights on.  After about 10 seconds you can turn the headlights on and it’s back to “normal.”  If you don’t turn the headlights off it doesn’t fix the problem and the irritating buzzing continues. 

            I explained to the shop what I was encountering and they weren’t able to find the culprit.  I was silly to think so.  This won’t be going back to the shop for this anymore. That is unless I want them to duck tape a few large flashlights above where working headlights would be.  Better yet, they would likely used checkered tape.  I bet Catherine buys it at Costco in 1000 yard rolls.  I’d tell the morning driver to bring in the car – but there’s a problem.  I don’t speak idiot, although working here, it wouldn’t be hard to pick up.

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August 3, 2009 – Stolen Ride

          Today I got to steal a ride from “El Mejor” for a change.  This son of a bitch steals rides anywhere and everywhere he can.  That’s why they call him “El Mejor” or translated in English – “The Best”.  Today I was the best. 

            They sent him for a call and I was right there.  They were pretty much giving it out as I got there.  For anyone else I would have just left it, but not for this greedy turd-worlder (a play on words if you will).

            It was a good ride.  They went all the way to Pacific Beach, or PB as the locals call it.  I told him that they went local.  No need to build animosity.  If it was Kirk, I probably would have said I was going to Los Angeles just to get him all riled up.

June 20, 2009 – The Expensive Ticket

        Recently got a ticket.  It was an expensive one.  Thank you California.  One more way of you sticking it to small business owners. Hats off to you.

"Pro Century Insurance" - Sounds like dog-shit insurance to me.  Of course if you ever get into an accident Catherine more or less threatens to take away your job if you don't pay out of pocket.

Rednecks

So it seems that nearly all of the traffic coming to my site is somehow related to "redneck" culture.  Therefore, I will make an attempt to post more stories about "Randy" the binge drinking, broke, chain smoking, overindulging, pervert.

As I tribute, I just thought I would display some pictures of Walmart shoppers.  Feast your eyes.

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July 18, 2009 – Vinny’s Hand Me Down Porn

             Yesterday Vincent discretely handed me a large brown envelope.  He told me that his friend was playing a joke on him and sending porn to his house.  Vinny didn’t want it around the house.  I believe that he lives alone though, so I’m not sure what he was so worried about.  There was the usual overabundance of profanity that has become Vincent’s trademark, only this time it wasn’t directed at other drivers or their “motha’s.”

            I gave them a watch.  Seemed like pretty lowbrow stuff, although truthfully I wouldn’t know the difference.  Seemed like better stuff than Randy watches though.  Jefferson, Randy’s roommate, said that once every few days there would be a new stack of porn mags in the living room.  Like 40 a month!  He told me that Randy was just buying them at newsstand price.  Don’t those cost like $10 each?  That’s a few hundred dollars a month just in nudie mags.  Jefferson said that most of the mags came with videos, so consequently there were hundreds of them.  Jefferson fancies himself as porn aficionado of sorts.  He said they were crap.  Randy felt that porn, and booze, oh, and expensive seafood dinners were better investments than his share of rent money.

Vincent's Donation

            Jefferson also told me that a few months back Kevin tried to pawn his porn collection to him.  Jefferson politely declined as diplomatically as possible and explained that the donation was sub-par and beneath his standards.  Kevin was afraid that his girlfriend Rhonda, Linda’s sister, might find it.  I’ve seen Rhonda, and she’s in no position to complain.  After seeing Rhonda I can completely understand why Kevin thinks about fucking other girls.  Who could blame him?  Though in all fairness she’s a 10 compared to Linda who sleeps in her clothes, doesn’t brush her teeth, smells like a homeless man’s asscrack, and hasn’t had sex with a man in her 54 years on this Earth…  That makes me think of a great George Carlin quote:

 “I’ve never fucked a 10, but one night I fucked five 2’s – I think that counts.”

If that were the case, he would have to fuck 20 Lindas, and unlike having sex with a perfect 10, that would be nothing to write home about…

July 6, 2009 – Sonny of a Bitch

           About a week ago I had a minor fender bender in front of the main hotel.  There were a few taxi drivers parked in the vicinity but none of them seemed to notice – likely because years of driving a taxi have turned them into mindless drones.

            I was tired as I had worked through the previous night and the sun had come up.  It was about 10 a.m.  When you are attempting to work a double shift the fatigue often doesn’t hit you until the sun rises the next morning.  Perhaps the transition from night to day, or the transition to the morning drivers.  They’re absolutely awful.  Never in my life have I seen such a sad group of undignified, undomesticated, misfits.  Shameful.

            So back to the case at hand.  I was probably on my 16^th hour or so and I glanced against this guy’s car as I was pulling to the curb.  Once I scraped against him he slammed on his horn.  Did he think that I didn’t realize that my car had collided with his?   The horn would have been best applied proactively.  More often than not the wailing of a car horn is doled out as more of a punitive measure than a preventative one.

            So we get out and he’s pissed.  Sonny was his name.  I wish that I could provide his full name, but alas, I cannot.  He really was a little bitch about the whole thing but I think after a few he came to realize that these things do happen and that it would just be best to exchange insurance information and keep in touch.  We agreed that this was a matter that could be best dealt with off of the books.  Out of sight, out of mind – no need to let Catherine know about things.

            There was only minor damage, just a little scuffed paint and a small scratch on the bumper.  I called him a few days later to follow up and try to arrange a time to get things fixed.  He did not return my call, but rather left me a call several days later demanding, more or less, to know when I would take care of his damages.  I addressed him politely, albeit sharply, and explained how I had attempted to resolve this earlier.  Then he tried to show me some $1,100.00 estimate that a mechanic had written up.  I explained that the figure was much too high and that I would not be willing to pay out such an outrageous sum for a bumper - a figure that a friend of his had likely come up with.

            Sure enough I was able to get an estimate for $240.00.  Then he complained that he had trouble getting rides to work and had to get a rental car and all.  I explained to Sonny that if we had decided to take the insurance company route that would have been possible.  In an attempt at appeasement I offered additional compensation to help him out.

            So today I went met up with Sonny at the scene and handed him an envelope with $300.00 and a contract stating that this would be the end of our discussions and that we had agreed that no further action would be taken.  He agreed but turned his nose up at the $300.00 and stated that he thought, “he would be compensated” for his troubles.  I explained that he had and I had paid out $60.00 above and beyond what his repairs had come to.

            Sonny was disappointed and in a desperation move he stated that his son was sick and in the hospital.  I explained that I was sorry to hear that and went on my way.  Really?  Trying to capitalize on your sick son (if this was in fact true).   How much more did he want?  Would an extra $50 dollars have been enough to carry him through his financial difficulties?  I think that I was pretty fucking nice about the whole thing.  After all, I could have just told him to get lost since there had been no police report, and that it was pretty much my word against his.  By now, chances are that I know the traffic court much better than him and I have days off.  If Sonny had decided to go that route there would be grey skies ahead.

July 4, 2009 - Fireworks

Just some pictures that I shot tonight of the Fireworks over Mission Bay.

June 28, 2009 - The Epitome of the Taxi Repair Shop

I'm actually borrowing this image from "Irish Taxi."  It's a nice blog.

So true.

Search Keywords and Photos

Feast your eyes.  Pee jug mullet?

I kind of like the photo, but I just couldn't get the exposure right on the sign.  Meh...

June 24, 2009 - A Kirk Sighting

         Snapped a quick picture of "Kirk" today.  Kirk is camera shy, you must be very careful when photographing him.  Much like wildlife really.  A telephoto lens would have been best.

Kirk's actually in uniform black pants, collared shirt.  It's fine if you look like a slob, but you have to have your black pants and collared shirt.

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June 22, 2009 - The New Place

Moved out of my apartment the other day because the roommate wished to move back to home.  So, my living situation has changed...

Should we really be promoting misbehavior?

Grrrrr.....

The spiders seem to have found a home as well....

Grime sifter.

June 20, 2009 - Rednecks are popular...

June 19, 2009 – More Bumper Cars

            Today crossing 3^rd street again I got into a minor fender bender.  Same situation as the last one – the driver darted into traffic and slammed on his brakes.  Why do people do this?

            I wouldn’t say it was carelessness on my part.  If you could see the intersection it would make more sense.  There was this tiny little scuff on the bumper.  The guy didn’t speak much English and wasn’t sure what to do.  I offered to fix it myself but he wanted to talk to his insurance.  Nice enough guy, but it seemed that he was more worried about collecting money.  I switched insurance information with him and promised to keep in touch.  Since there was damage, however minimal, I figured that I should tell Catherine.  Usually people aren’t worried about these things and we just exchange handshakes and part ways.  No harm no foul, and no need bother the office.

            What was strange is that Catherine got really worried when I told here that I passed along the company’s insurance information.  This was a big deal apparently…  I reminded her that this is common procedure, and the law as well.  Catherine isn’t too familiarized with law – or so it seems.  Indefinitely aloof.  

            I turned all of the accident paperwork.  Much of it was left blank with notes such – “I do not feel that this question can be answered with certainty” and the like.  It seemed as if the whole reason for the accident report was to remove liability from the company.  I wasn’t fooled.

            Later in the week I plan to meet with the other driver and settle our claim.  It will be settled informally.

June 17, 2009 – Bums, Bums, Bums

Every few days I get one of these.

            These rides are the worst.  We get these pickups from the local hospital to pick up one of the bums from San Diego.  For some reason they cart them over here to Cortez.  When we get them they always smell like shit, have no money, and are usually still half in the bag.  Often times they have pissed their pants.  Often times they are beaten up and you have to worry about your seats getting stained with a range of fluids.  They have been known to throw up in the cars of other taxi drivers.

            Since they have no money the hospital gives us a voucher to take them to a predetermined destination.  Usually Chicano Park.  A bum dumping ground of sorts.  The only tip that I get is from other drivers – “Try to avoid these rides, they suck.”  Amen brother!

            Sometimes they want to go to another destination, which we don’t do.  Since the hospital is paying for what they want we go with what they tell us.  Sometimes the bums get surly and bark (and grunt) orders.  Usually they’re unintelligible.  After picking up one belligerent bum after another the rides from the sailors start looking pretty rosy.

Search Keywords

Too busy to leave a story, so I'll leave you with this weeks search keywords -

Many of the usual.  I see people are still looking for "dinosaur porn".  Other trends that I have noticed are that anything with angry, redneck, or ass is usually a widely searched term.

More Pictures of Our Shitty Cabs

What do shitty cabs look like, oh why they look like this of course -

Nice fix on the window switch.  Was this done by the mechanic's apprentice?  Did they gouge that out with a circular saw?

Why go through all that trouble of trying to remove those hubcaps when you can just spray paint them while they're on the rim.  Have you ever tried to take a hubcap off?  Well, if you have you would know that it takes only seconds - this is pure laziness.

Bob Villa didn't do this, I can tell you that much.  More like Stevie Wonder.

The fix all, hex bolts and wood screws.  

I take it the cruise control doesn't work.

If you look in on the dash behind the wheel you'll see the business card covering up the check engine light.  Nice fix.  

June 4, 2009 – The Amway Lady

            As I stood next to my hot cab on a warm summer afternoon a nice lady came over and talked with me for a bit.  She was probably in her late 50’s, and was quite pleasant.  It was quite slow so I spoke with her about the “island” and engaged in general small talk.  She mentioned that she liked the drivers in Cortez and would periodically take a cab home to her place in La Mesa.  Since we had a good rapport I passed along my business card and told her to drop me a line if she ever needed a lift home.

            A few weeks later she called me, but not for a ride.  She had a business proposition that she wanted to discuss with me.  I obliged, looking for a way to supplement my income.  We met at a Starbucks where we went over the business model as well as what was expected from me and what was possible to achieve.  It sounded too good to be true – it was…  I was skeptical, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt.  What made me immediately suspicious was that she seemed to be overly upbeat and didn’t mention the company name.  The conversation was centered around commodities – things that we will buy throughout our lifetime (food, toothpaste, toilet paper, paper towels, etc…).  She invited me to a second meeting and informed me that she would follow up with the details shortly.  She was persistent.  I had free time that Wednesday evening, I left a spot open.

            When she called to explain where the meeting would be I realized things were becoming even stranger.  The gathering was to take place at a house in a cul-de-sac in La Mesa.  There would be fellow entrepreneurs there.  Or so it would seem…

            When I arrived I was in denial.  An older couple, presumably in their 70’s served up cookies and smiles and told me to grab a seat on their couch.  Then the clean cut guy with the suit came into the room, complete with a slick haircut and a cool demeanor.  He talked of massive profits with minimal effort, while scribbling fractions and graphs on the whiteboard in front of him.  And then came the kicker.  He was selling Amway.  My night had been a total waste.  I didn’t want to be rude and walk out, everyone was so thrilled to have the company.  They were serving up shit sandwiches and I was forced to take a big bite. 

            For those of you who don’t know, Amway is a pyramid scheme.  Basically the people at the top of the pyramid (the recruiters) make money off of the people they recruit by keeping a percentage of the sales that you (the recruit) sell.  Any people that you recruit that happen to sell anything, well you would get a portion of that, as well as the person who recruited you.  The person at the top gets a portion of everything.  It can be profitable, if you are willing to harass your friends and family relentlessly by peddling your crappy Amway products.  You have to be willing to act shamelessly.  In retrospect, it would likely be a good position for many of the other drivers…   Eerily, the other drones that attended the meeting were surprisingly gung-ho about the whole thing.  They drank the Kool-Aid, right down to the last drop.

            I told Alice (the Amway lady) that I would have to consider it.  She was quite pushy.  This was her time to seal the deal, to have me become further invested in their enterprise.  A few days later she called me again and I told her that I would not be attending any more meetings.  I was polite – something that she was not.  She just threw a fit and acted like a child, by explaining how I was making a big mistake and missing out on a once in a lifetime opportunity.  I wished her the best and reassured her that she would find people who much more eager to become filthy rich selling junk from Amway.

May 22, 2009 – Rod

            Today as I visited the office and fought my way past the fanatics and Lupita’s attempts to convert me to the “lord” and to the “good book,” I heard some sad news.  One of our drivers had passed away.   His name was Rod.

            Rod was an enigmatic individual, a kind heart.  We all liked him.  He had been with the company for 6 months or so.  He never stole rides, he never picked fights, he never made enemies.  Rod was a good person.  He was fighting his inner demons and none of us got close enough to find out exactly what those were.  He was quiet about these things.

            It’s sad to see him go – he will be missed.  Missed by many of us.

May 14, 2009 – Car Window Fixed (More or Less…)

            One of our drivers had an issue with the passenger side window of his cab and it was decided that it was time to take it to the shop for a repair.  The shop had the taxi for a few days.  When the driver returned the window was fixed – somewhat.

            Turns out the shop did not put much time into diagnosing the root of the problem – so they applied a quick fix.  Since the issue seemed to be the friction of the window against its frame as it was ascending/retracting the mechanic figured that the best way to solve the problem would be to OIL THE WINDOWS.  Not oil some interior components located within the door/window mechanisms, but to just smear oil all over the windows.  And not just the window in question, but all the windows.  Preventative maintenance?

            Now, there is a opaque, oily film on all of the windows.  The driver spent a good hour degreasing the windows and trying to remedy the shoddy work – although “shoddy” would be an understatement.  OILING THE WINDOWS???  What will they think of next?  Maybe next time he brings the car into the shop they can oil the windshield, or oil the wiperblades.

This Week's Search Keywords

I'm still not quite sure how this is compiled...

Search Keywords

Once again, not something that is in my blog at all.  Dinosaur porn?  What is that anyways, now I'm curious, as other people clearly are as well...

Drunk red neck - that can't be too hard to find online...

April 18, 2009 – Trouble in Mission Beach

            I always get a good laugh when I come into the office at the end of the night.  It’s easier to come in at night because it is much quieter and management (a term we’ll use loosely) isn’t in.  It’s fun to talk to Sampson.  We talk about problem drivers, silly policies – whatever.  Mostly just shoot the shit.  I also like to pick up business cards and oil at this time, as Sampson doesn’t ration these things out.

            He told me that a week or so ago Kirk locked his keys in his car in Mission Beach after he had surreptitiously taken a fare there.  Kirk didn’t want to say anything on the radio, as it would have exposed what he had done.  The ride to Mission beach was never called in.  Sampson just sent one of the livery drivers with a spare set.

            Even this can be hit or miss.  Half of the time the livery brings the wrong keys and we aren’t able to get back into the taxi.  I used to lock my keys in the car very often, but now I don’t lock it at all.  

April 4, 2009 – Geppetto Vs. Sling Blade (aka Dr. Moreau, aka Aqualung)

          Once a week or so there is an altercation on the radio.  This usually occurs because drivers because of a wrong, or an alleged wrong that has taken place.  Today Kirk (Sling Blade) was accused of taking a fare without calling it in as he often does.  Since the office wasn’t informed that he had a fare he was allowed to keep his spot in the cab order.  Understandably this causes tension between the drivers.  When Geppetto called him out on the radio an argument ensued.

            Julie: Cab 03

            Kirk: Cab 03

            Julie: Go t--- th--- V—n--  gro—ery store.

            Kirk:…10-9 (repeat)

            Julie: Go to the V---s gro---c—y st—e!!!

            Kirk: Vons, 10 – 4.  That queer Polack is playing with the radio again.

             Julie: Stop it!

            Geppetto:  He already took a ride.

            Kirk: No, you’re just seeing things again.

            Geppetto: No, you just took a ride, give it to another driver.

            Kirk: No, I don’t play those games like you.           

            Unknown Driver: Who’s the queer? (Mocking Kirk)

            Julie: Stop it!!!

            Kirk: Why don’t you meet me in the alley.  Bring a crowbar.

            Geppetto: Oh yeah, what are you going to try to do with me back there.

            Kirk: Come and see.

            Geppetto:  Why don’t you come and meet me on the street?

            Kirk: Oh what a coward.

            This is strange on a few levels.  It’s entirely possibly that Geppetto just imagined seeing Kirk take a ride earlier.  His senses aren’t all that sharp anymore.  Although, given Kirks history, it is likely that he did pick up a passenger earlier and not call it in. 

            First, it isn’t considered a problem for Kirk to be dishonest at work, the problem occurs when someone speaks up about it.   Secondly, this informal street justice doesn’t seem to be frowned upon, especially if it is discussed off of the air.  And lastly, it doesn’t seem to be a problem that we have sociopaths that work for the company and berating the passengers.   

        

            I believe Kirk has starting writing his Memoirs recently -

April 1, 2009 – Gomez’s Pee Bottle

            After talking to Gomez on the cab stand today it’s now clear that Jorge isn’t the only cabbie that urinates in his cab.  Gomez was quite cavalier about the topic, as if this was perfectly normal.

         

            Gomez told me that he had been working on a busy weekend and desperately needed to go to the bathroom – number 1.  Financially speaking, Gomez had decided that it was better for him to shove a plastic bottle down his pants and pee into it while he was sitting on the cab stand so that he didn’t lose his spot in line, than to take a 3 minute restroom break and let the office know.

            Right as Gomez had gotten situated he noticed that there was a problem.  As  he had began relieving himself a group of 4 people hopped in the cab and asked for a ride to Mission Beach.  Now Gomez had to hold it.  At this point the bottle was already half full and had begun slosh around and spill in his pants as he was driving.   Gomez had to deal with this for a good 20 minutes.  When he arrived much of the pee in the bottle had already drained on his pants and into the seat.  Gomez was not a happy camper, in retrospect the bathroom would have been a good investment.

March 21, 2009 – Our Deadbeat Mechanic

          A while back Jefferson leant our mechanic Stanley $200 so that he wouldn’t be roughed up by what appeared to be a few angry bookies.  Stanley didn’t go into details, but admitted that he owed money and the person who leant it wasn’t happy.

            Jefferson was fortunate enough to reclaim $100 of his money, but that appears to be the last of it.  Perhaps Stanley needs to sell more weed out of the back shop, or perhaps that’s what got him into this mess in the first place.  He seems to have a pretty cozy racket selling stolen gas from the taxi’s that are brought into the shop – at the drivers expense of course.