 A lot of people ask me if I drive the same cab every day. I guess it's something I don't really think about anymore, like "Where do cab drivers piss?"... Anyway, the answer is... sometimes. Usually yes, until your regular cab breaks down. Then you're in limbo. I've been in limbo for months at a time. It can
actually be kind of exciting, once one adjusts one's alcohol intake at
night upward enough to compensate for the nerves. I remember one time I was in limbo. My old cab had had a fucked up front end, which made it feel like I was steering only with the right front wheel... very exciting at 80 on a bend in the freeway... but it turned out that was nothing. There was cab 79, with the upside down steering wheel and the automatic transmission with delusions of racecardom, which liked downshifting for no apparent reason, then upsifting again 2 seconds later, just to keep everyone onboard from settling too comfortably into their seats. Then there was cab 65, which ran really nice and seemed to get great gas mileage... though I couldn't be sure because none of the gauges worked, including the gas gauge and the odometer, so I never quite knew if I was gonna run out of gas. Very exciting when running over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco at rush hour with a couple of suits in the back heading to the Park Hyatt hotel. And, to add insult to injury, it had an AM/FM installed, which didn't work, no matter how often I pressed the power button during the course of a day. I can't forget cab 73 though, with all the gauges, and even the AM/FM working... but the blown heater core that occasionally spewed steam across the windshield, not to mention the puddle of dripping anti-freeze on the front passenger side floor. A fine choice on a hot summer's day. Cab 50 seemed to run fine, well in fact. That
probably explains why the Indian owners always gave it to an Indian driver. Or maybe that was just a spot of paranoia that the Nigerian drivers had shared among themselves. Yes, life can be good in limbo. Limbo even makes one appreciate the hour long waits for a fare at a cabstand... since the cars won't break down while parked. Well, except for 65. Did I forget to mention that it's transmission was slightly out of whack with the column shift... so that sometimes it slips out of park, and won't go back in so that the key can engage the starter? Boy, that's a barrel of laughs when a couple of suits have just loaded their luggage into the trunk and are anxiously waiting to pay someone to get them to the airport. "It'll just be a second.. hold on..." I got the line down pat. I used the same line when cab 79's battery cables did... whatever it is that they did, and the cab won't start until I pop the hood, and jiggle the wires, and maybe kick the front end a couple of times. I really liked the looks of, not-quite-confidence on the fares faces when I did that, and then managed to get the car running, close the hood, and let 'em know "Ok, we'll be at the airport in a jiffy. When did you say your flight left?" Ahh, I love my job. At least I don't have to deal with office politics. Except when it comes to bribes to mechanics and dispatchers to do their jobs for me. But, other than that, it doesn't usually come up. Not since I tossed the dispatch radio onto the concrete floor in front of one of the bosses after a mechanic sent me out on the streets with the lie "Ohh no, this is a new radio 33...". Just remember, when a company employee lies to you, it's called a mistake. And make sure that the house is stocked with whiskey, at all times. Maybe, later, I'll talk about where cab drivers piss...
there's No Place Like Home... You gotta be shitting me Alex |