 By the Carwash?... Every once in a while your timing is just right in the cab business. I like to refer to it as dumb luck. Anyone who stays in the business has their little streaks of it here and there. Of course, the luck usually isn't the only thing that's dumb, but that's never much of a surprise here in Oakland. As an example, I remember a streak that went a little something like this: I'd been sitting at the downtown BART cabstand for something like an hour, reading, and occasionally getting out to stretch my legs and bullshit with the sikhs to help them with their English, when up walks a lady in a corporate ensemble, with a corporate bag. I was finally the first cab in the line. "Hey, airport..." one of the sikhs grins, trying to hide his jealousy the same way we all do for each other. So I grin, hoping to hell he's right, and show the nice lady to my cab. "1950 Franklin" she says, which is about 6 blocks up the street. "No problem" I answer, knowing that if I don't swear at her for wasting my time like this, she might actually give me 5 whole dollars. "God, what a beautiful day..." she marvels, glad to finally be out of a cubicle or something. "Yeah, it's just..." I start gushing along with her, hoping to butter her up so I can get that 5 spot out of her, when suddenly the dispatcher is on looking for a cab downtown. "Yeah, 73 downtown. 73 downtown! 73 downtown!" I practically yell into the mic, hoping to maybe turn my luck. Sure enough, I was quicker and/or louder than everyone else... and she gives me one at 17th and Broadway, not but 3 blocks from where I'll soon be dropping off. There wasn't time for any more platitudes with the corporate lady, but she did give me my 5, and then I cut across four lanes to make a left at the end of the block, sped down Broadway, and then made one of those u-turns at 17th that'll bowl over a half-dozen pedestrians if you're not careful. Sure enough though, my looseness with the niceties of traffic laws did the trick, and up to the cab walks another nice lady. "Yeah, I'm going to the Giant burger." she tells me. "Uhh..." I stammer, five or six of them popping to mind. "The Giant burger?..." "Yeah. You know, the one by the car wash." "Uhh..." I stammer some more... thinking desperately... trying to ignore the fact that I suddenly recognize the lady as one that I've picked up before, from the mental health clinic in West Oakland. Along with the memory comes the memory that she actually paid her fare with no problems the last time, although with the mental cases you can't always be sure that that'll mean anything the next time. And then it suddenly comes to me, there's a Giant burger on San Pablo and 25th and West (it's a strange intersection), and across the street is a car wash! "So, the Giant burger on San Pablo?" I ask, to be sure... as I pull into traffic. "Huh? No, not on San Pablo. The one by the car wash." she insists. "Well... that's the only one I know of by a car wash..." I admit, not really comprehending why she needs one by a car wash anyway, since she obviously doesn't have a car. Of course, insanity has it's little quirks, and as long as I'm being paid I don't mind indulging them here and there. "You know, the one by the car wash..." she insists some more. "Uhh, no. No I don't know." I say. I mean, what else is there to say? I mean, I know one by a motel... but no, she needs a car wash, and apparently the one on San Pablo isn't good enough for her. "Uhh, do you maybe... ohh... have an address?" I ask, driving slowly now, no idea where I'll be heading... but fully willing to charge her even if she can't come up with any information and I wind up having to double back and take her back where I picked her up. "On MacArthur." she finally manages. Of course, MacArthur runs the entire length of East Oakland, 110 blocks at least, and then W. MacArthur runs across the rest of the city, maybe another 30+ blocks. She's at least narrowed it down though... Then, suddenly, it comes to me! The last time I picked her up, at the mental health clinic, I took her out around High St. and MacArthur- and there's a Giant burger in that neighborhood. Of course, I don't know from no car washes in the area... though I couldn't say for sure there wasn't one next door. "So, you mean that one on, like, 39th and MacArthur?" I ask, feeling very proud of myself for having remembered it. "The one by the car wash." "Yeah," I try again, "... well, I know there's one around 39th and MacArthur. I don't know about the car wash, but it's the only one I can think of on MacArthur..." I try to explain, hoping to get some sort of confirmation, or even just a hint, that I've got it right. "No, this one's by a car wash..." "On MacArthur?" I repeat. "Uhh huh. On MacArthur. By the car wash." "Around 39th?" I ask, hoping to catch her off guard. "By the car wash. It's the Giant burger by the car wash..." "Ok, I know just the one..." I finally told her, not really caring if I was right or not, just sick of hearing about the car wash. And off we went. "By the car wash..." she assured me again. "Uhh, huh... so you're saying it's by a car wash? You're sure?" I asked, just for fun. "Yeah. The Giant burger by the car wash. Don't forget, by the car wash." "Uhh huh," I assured her. "I don't think I'll ever forget that it's by the car wash..." "By the car wash." she repeated. Over and over and over. And over. And on and on. It was an $18 and change fare, and on and on she reminded me. I finally just turned up the radio and just nodded whenever I suspected she'd said it again. When we got there, sure enough, there was a car wash next door. Hallalulia! She gave me a $20, wanted her buck back, but she was willing to live without the 52 cents, or whatever it was. I breathed a sigh of relief. Before I'd managed to get out of the parking lot, dispatch had even found me another fare. One that took me back downtown! I was very glad I hadn't snapped and just thrown her ass out of the
car for being annoyingly retarded. It's all about the dumb luck...
the Old Waybills |