Taxi Cab Depression (Hi, my name is Roger)

What makes a bad night for a tax driver? Rowdy customers? Rude customers? Getting ripped off? Not making money? Believe it or not, none of these things really irritate me. What makes a night bad for me is boredom. The city sucks, I spent way too much time sitting in parking lots tonight....and way too much time getting to the customers house early and waiting for them to get ready. I can deal with almost everyone and everything that comes into my cab, but boredom just sucks.

For this reason, I was glad for a little AIESEC party break in the middle of the my shift. I'm glad that I have a job that I can just stop working whenever I want, but at the same time it's hard to stop working because all I think about is how much I could be making if I was actually working instead of eating ice cream cake.

Random conversation:
Tim Horton's Employee: 'that come to $1.87'
Me: *hands him a $20 bill'
THE: It's just easier if you pay with that $5 bill in your hand
Me: Ya, I just want to break a $20
THE: But it's just less change to pay with a $5
Me: That's the point, I want some $5 bills instead of this $20
THE: But it's...
Me: I don't even want your shitty coffee, I really just want the change
THE: Your change comes to $18.13
...

Me: Hey man, I'm sorry about the whole 'shitty coffee' thing
THE: That's okay
Me: I love your coffee, I'd die without it.
THE: I hate the coffee here

The excitement of the evening picked up with a group of customers, one in particular who referenced every popular movie of the last decade within 5 minutes, took a piss out the side of my cab, tried to get his friends to make two stops, opened the door while I was driving down 33rd, and then eventually got home. When there, he apologized for his antics, which included asking me 5 or 6 times what my name was. Despite giving him my correct name, he called me Roger and claimed that I was ignoring him. He gave me $60 for a $6 fare, but then didn't like that I was ignoring him. He called me an asshole, took back $40 and said if he ever saw me again he'd punch me in the face. He then finally got out and I took his friends to their house. I told them that the extra $14 the other guy gave me covered their fare, but the one girl gave me an extra $10 and apologized.

My next customers were similarly loud but less threatening. The one guy who sat up front asked me my name 4 times. Despite also telling him my real name, he decided that my name was going to be Chad instead. He attempted to razz me as he usually does to other cab drivers, but couldn't be on his game because he said I was too cool of a guy. When we got to their home, they invited me in for a beer, to which I declined.

Later on, I met two guys who were snorting something as I drove up. Their later conversation revealed this to be cocaine. They gave me an address across the city, to which I began driving on the most direct route. Half-way through one of them accused me of going in the wrong direction. He told me to make a couple turns in what was actually the wrong direction. Eventually, we stopped and I got out my map to ensure them that I knew where I was going. They were upset with my constant delays and going in the wrong direction. When we had almost arrived, they argued as to whether they were going to the right place. When we arrived, I decided not to unlock the doors. The guy in the back tried to get out really quickly but couldn't pass my super awesome security device known as child-safety locks. His friend also tried to leave quickly, but upon seeing that I wasn't unlocking the back door for his friend, he paid me the $12 fare....no tip, of course. His friend in the back finally got out and proceeded to slam the side door of the van on his own hand. As I drove off, he was clearly in a considerable amount of pain. He slammed a door really hard on his hand. He also almost left his shoes in my cab. I don't know when or why he had his shoes taken off. I got out of there pretty quickly.

My next fare came in the form of a woman running away from a guy. She jumped in the front seat rather quickly and said: 'He's not coming. Go, go, go!' We struck up a conversation, and it turns out she is also a 4th year student at the Edwards School of Business. She didn't recognize me at all, but she did look a little familiar to me. I plugged AIESEC and my foreign film night during our conversation about what it is like being a cab driver. She was cool, having a good conversation can really make a night better.

My night ended with me working past my shifts' end in order to pick up Marshall, who has become a regular in my cab....Marshall and his 100% tips are welcome at any time. I was also supposed to pick up another friend, some guy I worked with a year ago at London Drugs. He found out I was cab driver and got my number through my brother. He said he would call me later in the evening but never did. Now that he has my number, he is about to become a regular in my cab.

How much money did I make tonight? I don't really care. I'm fucking tired and even I don't know whether I'm Carson, Roger, Chad, or some other persona that my drunk, angry, incomprehensible customers have made up for me.