Wednesday, part 2- It's a funny thing, driving a cab. You do it, but you don't think about it. You're better off if you don't think about it too much. But people keep asking... "I bet you've got a lot of stories...". Well, not at first I didn't. I drive in Oakland, CA. The dayshift is largely old ladies... going to the beauty shops, and the doctor's offices... but there're plenty of lunatics that slip through... Yeah, I guess I've collected some stories over the years. But, is it anything that the public wants to hear? It's not usually Hollywood style happy endings... It's usually gritty bits of weirdness... and if people really enjoyed that sort of stuff, then we'd all be down in the trenches, rolling along the avenues in cabs, risking our lives in search of amusing anecdotes... despite the fact that any city police force's Intro. Course for a new cab driver points out that it is the most dangerous job in the country. Period. More dangerous than being a cop, or a fireman, or even a fucking 7-11 night manager. It is the most dangerous job in the country. That's not to say it doesn't have its share of amusements...
"So, where's home?" I asked, trying to shrug off the fact that she'd just abandoned a beer. Granted, it was a cheap beer. It couldn't've been all that good... but still, there was just something wrong about the act. Especially after only one sip. What kind of alcoholic was I dealing with?? This was alcohol abuse. A classic case. "Just keep going. I'll tell you when." So I drove on down San Pablo, and it was maybe 4 blocks further on that she had me pull over at another liquor store. "Son, I want you to go and get me some beer. And make it my brand this time!" "Uhh, sure Mama. Uhh, so, you want what kind again?" "My brand. You know... my brand. Just get me something I like. And get me some more scratchers too." "Uhh... ok. So, you want some beer. And you want some scratchers. And, what else?" I just sighed. Sonny Boy really wasn't working with a very bright bulb. I really wanted a cigarette, but my head was already so full of nicotine fumes that it was throbbing. I was gonna have to pace myself if I was gonna make it through this ride alive. Luckily I had those Cheetoes that the Old Lady had insisted on buying for me. I broke 'em open and started munching away the time. I needed something to distract me, so I wouldn't lose patience and tell Sonny Boy he was an idiot. "Yeah, that's it. Just the beer. You better make that 2. The big cans. Something I like, and some scratchers. And get something for y'rself." "And, what kind of beer was that again?" asked Sonny. It was getting ridiculous. I stuffed 3 Cheetoes in my mouth at once, just so I wouldn't laugh out loud. Eventually, Mama fished another 20 out of her sock, and Sonny Boy finally went in. He came back in a few minutes with a pair of king cans of Olympia, and a five strip of scratchers, and some pork rinds. I had plenty of time to wipe the Cheeto dust from my fingers while the Old Lady scratched at her tickets. "Shit! Here, Son, take these in and get me some more..." So much for wiping my fingers. I valiantly resisted the urge to jump back into the bag though. I wanted to be ready whenever she was. Sonny Boy came back, and the Old Lady went through the scratching again. "Shit! Nothing!..." And, tossing the losers out the window as she turned to me, she said "Ok, let's go." The meter was pushing $18 by this time. I just shrugged, "Just drive on down San Pablo?" "I'll tell you when..." It was maybe five more blocks to get back to her house. It wasn't a house though, of course. It was one of those downtown hotels that doesn't allow visitors, or smoking, or drinking... I think it was some sort of halfway house or something, but I couldn't bring myself to ask about it. I didn't want to pry. The Old Lady sent her daughter in with her keys. "Yeah girl, you go and bring me back all my mail." "Alright Mama. I'll be right back now..." With the solid shield, I didn't have to worry about listening to Sonny Boy trying to talk to me about whatever fine schemes he might be hatching to make himself a few bucks. Or maybe he wasn't a hustler. Maybe he was one of those guys who just takes it upon himself to care for his Mama, which is the most passive of all hustles in my book... it's the perfect excuse to let Mama just go on supporting ya for the rest of your life. Or, at least for the rest of her's. It was a small favor. I still had Mama though. She wouldn't let me just sit and read any bad science fiction though. Or maybe I was reading Chekhov at the time... Anyway, instead I got to listen to her telling me about how she was a church going woman, between pulls on her Olympia and drags on her Newports. "Yeah, see... if you pray, then the Lord, He'll listen. There ain't nothing you can't get. That's how I won that settlement for my fall..." swig "Yes sir, the Lord's looking out for me..." I just nodded. And lit up a cigarette. There are times when a throbbing headache is the least of your worries. She was still babbling about something or other, when the police rolled by. It was your standard black & white, cruising by slowly. I was double parked, but it was a one-way side street, and other than the cops and me there wasn't any traffic... so the Old Lady was quick to drop her beer out of sight. I just smiled, and waved. There isn't anything illegal about a fare drinking a beer in a taxi, and I guess I just love that law a little more than taxi detail recommends. "Ahh, relax. Hell, offer them a swig. There ain't nothing they can do about it..." "Really?" "Trust me. God's looking out for you..." The Daughter was out in another minute or two with a short stack of mail. Apparently, it was a check they'd been looking for. Maybe the slip & fall check... 'cause the Old Lady suddenly smiled, "Ok, now we gotta go to the check cashing..." "Which check cashing?" I asked. We went round and round with that question for just long enough for her to finish off her beer, glance around to be sure the coast was clear, and toss the can into the street. "The one at 27th." So off we went again. It was all of 10 blocks away, and then it was more waiting. Mama and the Daughter went in, and Sonny Boy tried to talk to me. I'd never been so grateful for that shield in all the time I'd been driving. I'm not sure just how bullet-proof the thing might be, but it's sure as hell idiotic-conversation proof. Or, at least resistant. Very resistant. After a while Sonny Boy got to wandering around the parking lot, pacing, sometimes sitting in the back with the door open so he could just swing his legs a little. I kept an eye on him, but he didn't seem cunning enough to really spark my paranoia. It was a long wait. Both of Mama's socks were bulging as the two of them came back to the cab. I smiled, looking forward to collecting my piece of the action and being done with these fools already. "So, back to the hospital?" I suggested, helpfully. "No, I want you to take me back to the liquor store..." she answered, clumsily flipping her hand to get the IV nipple thing out of her way as she lit another cigarette. "Uhh... which one?" was all I could answer. "You know, that same one." I lit another cigarette. "Mmmm, the one with your brand of beer?" I ventured. "No, the other one. You know." I nodded sagely. "Ahh, the one where your daughter was maced..." "Yeah, that's what I said. You a nice kid, but you need to listen." I just nodded. "I'll get right on it..." So, it was back up San Pablo... I pulled up in front, and just leaned back in my seat as we went through it all again. "Now Son, I want you to get me five more scratchers. And another beer, a good one." she instructed, working on her beer and adjusting her hospital gown back into place at the same time. "Uhh, what kind of scratchers'd you want, Mama?" "What you got the last time. But, I don't want no more losers. You get me some other ones. Some of each. And you get yourself something too..." and then, turning back to me again, she asked "Would you like something? Come on now, what you want?..." "Nahh, I'm good." I answered. And I was. I didn't want to try to get her to get me any whiskey, which was what I really needed by that point. I could just see her then using that to justify cutting a big chunk off the fare. Or, even worse, trying to convince me that I should stop the meter while Sonny Boy went in to do his shopping. I tell ya, that boy was so dense that I was always amazed when it didn't take half an hour to get what he was looking for at these stores. "You sure?" she asked. I just shook my head. "Well, ok then..." "So, that was... 1 beer?" asked Sonny Boy. "And 5 more scratchers. And you get something for yourself. And something for your sister too..." I just leaned back and tried to take a nap. Now Sonny Boy was trying to get the Daughter's order too. Eventually, she just decided to go in and choose for herself. "You be careful now!" cried out Mama. "Remember what happened the last time you went in there..." I don't think I managed to actually get any rest. The kids were back in just a few minutes. "Are you sure you don't want anything? You being so nice..." I just laughed, and shook my head. 'No'. "So, where to now?" I asked. "You know what?, I feel lucky. Son, you go in there and get me 5 more scratchers." I broke the Cheetoes bag back open. She won something on the new batch. I didn't ask how much, it just didn't seem like the right thing to do... but she wasn't excited enough for it to have been more than $20. I was afraid it'd mean we'd be stuck here until she ran out of money entirely, 5 tickets at a time. I was just working the last bits of Cheetoes out of my mouth, trying to find the wording to ask for some more deposit money, when she decided it was time to go. "Back to the hospital?" I asked. "No. Just go straight here." It figured. She still had some beer left. They probably wouldn't've let her finish it back at the hospital. Too much chance of it reacting badly to whatever they were feeding her through that IV thing... probably an insurance worry, I figured. So we drove down San Pablo, and she had me cut left at 30th, over to Market. Then she had me pull over in front of a hole-in-the-wall fish restaurant. "Ok now, I want... mmm, catfish I think. With greens. And rice. And, get yourselves something too." she said to the back seat in general, as she tried to hand back a $20. She'd forgotten about the shield though. She didn't want to hand it out to anyone through the window though, so I had to take it from her and slip it through the shield's money slot for her. Then I had to wait as Sonny Boy confirmed everything again. Just my luck that he'd be the one to volunteer for the job. He finally got everyone's order straight, and went in to order. I sat quietly, resisting the urge to slit my own throat. Watching the meter made me feel better though. It was around $28 now, and climbing. Mama, meanwhile, finished off her beer... and opened the new one. She had about 2 sips of the new one before she started making faces. "Ohh Lord, this ain't my brand of beer. This stuff ain't no good..." and sure enough, she opened the door and set it down in the gutter. I figured she was senile. "Girl..." she called through the shield now, "you go in there and tell your brother that we'll be right back. He can just wait for the food, and we'll be right back." "Ok, Mama. I'll tell him." She was back in a minute. "Ok, you gotta take me to a liquor store." she told me. "A liquor store?... The one with your brand?, or another one?..." I asked. "You know... the same liquor store..." "The mace store?" "You know which store. Ain't you listening?..." "Ohh," I answered, with a smile, "that liquor store..." So I took her back to the liquor store where her daughter'd been maced. "Ok," she said, handing me another $20 to hand through the money slot, "now I want you to get me a couple of beers... and 5 scratchers... and get something for yourself." Then, you guessed it, she turned to me, "Would you like anything?" I was beginning to suspect that I'd been rammed by a truck, died instantaneously on the road, and that I was now in Hell. The thought crossed my mind that I should maybe go into the liquor store myself and see if my father was working behind the counter. He wasn't actually an Arab, he was an Iranian... but I didn't figure they'd know the difference in Hell anymore than they did in West Oakland. I fought the urge though. And the growing hysteria. I turned, for comfort, to staring at the meter. We were up around $32 by now... "You could buy me some more cigarettes..." I suggested. "Camel filters." She yelled the addition out the window to her Daughter. And told her to be careful. She came back with Camel lights for me. Before I knew what I was doing, I pointed out the mistake. Now I had to wait for her to go back in... "Shit!... Nothing!..." moaned Mama, opening another beer and lighting another cigarette to console herself with. I got my Camels, eventually. But I worried for my sanity. Maybe I should've asked for the whiskey after all... I lit another cigarette, and tried to forget about it. I'd smoked so much in the last hour and a half, wandering around in circles with the beer-into-the-gutter lady here that my lungs couldn't even take a drag. I was left puffing on the thing like a puny cigar... "Ok, back to the restaurant..." she ordered now. I cut off a speeding SUV in my hurry to make the left and get this all over with. The driver honked and yelled something at me. I just flipped them off... I cared even less than usual. "Go in and see if the food's ready, girl." ordered Mama. She was drinking Blatz now. It seemed to be satisfactory. The Daughter ran in, and was back in a minute to explain that the food still wasn't ready. "Ahh hell, I gotta take a piss." said the Old Lady. "Ask them do they got a bathroom." The Daughter was back in another minute. "No, Mama... they don't got no bathroom." Mama just nodded. She took another sip of her newest beer, and then she set it down on the dashboard. "I'll be right back..." she said, and she climbed out the door. It wasn't a quick process though. She was old, and she'd just gotten out of the hospital, and she was very likely drunk, or at least buzzed... and she was still wearing that hospital gown, and she had to be careful not to yank her IV thingie out of her hand... but she got out of the car alright. "I'll be right back..." she said again, and then she sort of hobbled / waddled around the corner. It was a little confusing, until I glanced back that way and spotted her squatting on some house's front lawn, her hospital gown hiked up, taking a leak. I quickly looked away. I took another drag on my cigarette. I sucked on that cigarette with every last bit of suck I could muster... Suddenly Sonny Boy appeared at the window. "Uhh, yeah, they say it's just gonna be another couple of minute. I got a catfish, and a halibut, and, uhh... another catfish. I guess that makes 2 catfish, and the halibut... and the greens..." he was explaining it all to me, until he suddenly realized Mama wasn't up there with me. I just nodded. "Uhh, where'd Mama go?..." "She went around the corner to water the neighbor's lawn..." I explained. I probably should've told him that she'd hit it big on one of the scratchers and that she'd had us drop her off at Mike Lee's Reno tours bus stop... but I guess I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time. The truth is really just a lazy man's 'out'. "She's where?" I just shook my head, and stared at my cigarette for a few moments. Maybe the things would kill me one day... but I had today to worry about day's like this first... "She'll be back..." He just nodded, and then went to confer / confirm it with his sister in the back. Mama was back before the fish was ready. She took another sip on that beer, and then dropped it into the gutter. I just watched her do it... Eventually the fish was ready. Sonny Boy picked it up, brought it back, climbed in... and we made one more stop at the liquor store. "Pick me up 5... no, make that 10 scratchers..." She was still scratching at them, as I finally drove them back to Summit's ER. They clambered out, and loaded Mama back into the wheelchair, which was still sitting at the curb where we'd left it. I took my $50, shoved it in my pocket, and put the cab in gear. Mama was stashing her last beer into the folds of her hospital gown as I drove away.
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