....A Fucking Stalion

Where to begin...

One lady asked me to drop her off on the outskirts of town because she was going to hitchhike the 5 hour drive to see her daughter. Her daughter didn't want her to come but dammit she was coming anyway. She was either high on drugs or possibly retarded, I couldn't quite tell. We had an in-depth conversation about what it meant to be family. Usually during these conversations I just nod my head and say 'definitely'. She wanted me to drop on the very outskirts of town but I elected to drop her at the gas station, mainly because if she wandered off into a field and died it can't really come back to haunt me. I didn't drop her in a field, if she's there it's her own doing. I dropped her at the gas station.

While walking back to my cab after knocking at a door, one cougar said I had a cute shirt, and a cute ass. I got  a $7 tip out of that fare.

One guy got into my cab at Outlaws and said: 'You look sharp, you're a fucking stalion!'. While I took this as a complement I found it weird that he called me a stalion about 7 more times on the ride home. He wasn't hitting on me or anything, but his girlfriend was in the backseat and he kept saying how much he loved her...but he kept calling me a stalion. He asked my name and I told him I was Daniel.

9 people in the cab on the way to a foam party....ho-hum.

One of my regulars, Ward, called me as he usually does and I drove him to the west side. He called me later that evening to come pick him up. When I got there he was a wooden fist tucked into his pants and was missing a shoe. I later learned that he lost one of his shoes and suspected it was stolen. In anger, he stole a sculture of a wooden fist as revenge. He didn't plan on holding it as hostage to get his shoe, he just stole it:

On the ride home he rolled down his window and held the fist out yelling 'black power!' at bystanders who wanted a cab. At one point a hot chick wanted the cab so he opened the side door (cab hasn't stopped at this point) and told her they could go back to her place. She jumped in, jumped out, and then took another cab with her friends. The side door remained open for about 3 blocks before Ward shut it (without leaving the front seat, and without the cab stopping). It's pretty much suicide to stop my cab on Broadway at 3 AM. 10 people would jump in if I did, all trying to go to different places.

Eventually I got Ward home.

Later in the evening I picked 3 ladies who had an interesting story about their last cab driver. Apparently they were stil getting into the cab when the cabbie peeled away with one girl half in the cab and the doors not shut. They driver got super-pissed and physically threw them out of the cab (literally, picked one girl up and threw her out). They told me they suspected he was on drugs, I told them they were probably right. These were probably my nicest customers of the evening though, we talked about many things including why I was a cab driver, having kids, school, and....

I don't know how we got on the subject, but they ended up telling me a story about someone they knew in McNab Park. They didn't want to go to their house because they found out the cat had been raped and they didn't know who did it. WTF! The cat......got raped.....

My next customers were embarrassed because they were telling a story about her boyfriend who had to start jerking himself to get started during sex. They said it was probably a crazy story and they were sorry I had to listen to it. My response was: 'Hey, my last customer told me a story about a cat getting raped...compared to that your story is tame'. They freaked out.

Now With Pictures...

With the winter season finally drawing to a close and students staying in and studying for finals, my evenings have begun to slow down quite bit. This means that I have to find new ways to entertain myself and pass the time. This weekend brought two new activities. The first is that I bought cables for my iPod so that I can watch TV shows and movies on the screen in the backseat. The cables also mean that I don't have to bring my book of CDs which means I now have room to stash a camera in my utility box (for lack of a better term). Therefore, I will now be able to capture random night moments around the city. There are many of these, but unfortunately I've already run into two problems. 1) I'm driving customers and can't stop for a lot of the best moments, plus they happen too quick (like a drunk driver driving hitting the meridian and destroying their front end yesterday - everyone was okay and the cops were nearby) and 2) I suck at taking pictures. So, there won't be that many good pictures, but hopefully I'll get a few decent ones.

I drove a geeky stag party which was kinda funny. While driving by the University one guy proposed that we stop so they could go to the Cove and play video games while drunk....the bachelor seconded that proposal but we continued on to Jax's anyway (going to Jax's is a pretty good sign that they don't go out to bars much). He had a booby hat, I squeezed the booby upon request.

Not many other interesting people this weekend, just random conversations about music, drugs, prefererance of women by race, drunk guys who cant have sex, business opportunities, and the effects of someone slipping drugs into your drink while at the bar.

I did see Sailor Dan wearing a Sombrero tonight. Tried to get a picture but each time I saw him I had a customer in the car. Didn't see whether his drawing were still ships or if he learned how to draw something Mexican-related.

Here is my first picture of night-time shenanigans:

I may have had some involvement in this.

I'm also seeking recommendations on what do with new movie-playing and picture-taking abilities. I mean, what would do if after a long night of drinking and dancing you got into a cab and an episode of Dora the Explorer was playing?

Forgot One...

My last entry talked about my regulars and I was reminded that I forgot to mention one important regular. With his partner-in-crime, Jim Jam, he is one of the few that can recognize a Hawksley Workman song and his dedication to the drinking scene can be shown by the fact that he has never called for a ride earlier than last call. He simply goes by the name:

Not-So-Temporary Friendships

AKA....my regulars. I refer to my fares as my temporary friendships. These ones last a little longer than the others.

The Red-Headed Racist Brothers
I've mentioned these brothers in this blog before. They don't actually know me or have my number but they take a cab often enough, and live in my turf, that I get calls to their house quite often. It's always the same trip. To the grocery shop, to the offsale, and the back home. They never take a cab together either, always just one of them. This short trip is always filled with racist and otherwise dark humour. It's offensive, but it's also funny as hell. They also tip well, mainly because I'm white.

Professor Sweatpants
I'm not quite sure why I call him 'Professor'. If I took a class and he was my professor, I'd probably ask for my money back. I've had some decent conversations with him surrounding music, but he doesn't strike me as a particularly smart person. The 'sweatpants' part comes in because he wore sweatpants to a jazz club once, and you can never really forgive a man for that. I don't drive him that often, but enough to know him and know its him before I even arrive at the house I've been called to.

Margaret
Me and Margaret did not meet on the best of terms. She's an old lady who looks like she always has her eyes shut and is chewing on something. She has an account and never tips, not even a penny. My first trip with her, she forgot her keys and made me go to three of her neighbours' houses to see if they had her spare key. Why the entire neighbourhood has a spare key to her house, I'm not sure, but she was in a bad mood and did not appreciate the effort and patience I was putting into the situation. Since then, we've had some nice conversations surrounding the weather, and I recently discovered she's an avid NDP supporter. I'm supposed to avoid talking politics with customers, but we had a friendly conversation surrounding the leader debate.

Music Man Ward
My newest regular, we only met a couple weeks ago. My Black Keys CD sparked a long conversation surrounding music and similar bands. It was a long conversation because we had to make multiple stops to get the first season of Lost. I shut the meter off when we stopped on the first trip and gave him a dollar discount on the second trip because I didn't want to deal with change and he seems like a good guy. We have exchanged many band recommendatiosns which I always appreciate in a fare.

Kelsey 'n Friends
Are they the same friends? Are they different? I'm never quite sure but I've never asked. Since she actually reads this blog I'm sure I'll find out next time she calls. These trips are often characterized by McDonalds drive-thru, getting locked out of the house, questions about why she hasn't been mentioned in the blog, and slight overpayment on the fare (which I'll just tally up as a good tip for me being awesome)

Semi-Regulars
Some people don't count as actual regulars, but I've driven them a few times so I recognize them:
-two cute asian girls who live on Main Street and never speak english
-old lady who works at United Way, gets driven home from Safeway, and gives me life advice
-guy and two girls who live near 4th and Clarence
-this one house in Stonebridge: never the same people, but the destinatination is always the same

And all of this is on top of my regulars who I actually know outside of taxi-related situations.

Random Moments of the Night
Two pylons were in the middle of the street marking off the area surrounding a dead cat...like a little crime scene, which was both cute and sad.

Customer disagreed that he should pay the fare. I disagreed with that. We had an argument. I got punched in the face. There was blood. I got my money.

Introducing: Bigfoot

There is a homeless man that I've seen quite a few times now. He doesn't come out at night, I only see him at the beginning of my shifts, walking around downtown. He is a large hairy man, with long hair and a long beard. His jeans are tucked into socks, and his belt is a yellow rope. He walks quite slowly, resembling the famous bigfoot video from years back. Thus, he is now know known as Bigfoot.

In other hobo news, I saw Sailor Dan this weekend for the first time without his hat and drawings. Dan is by far my most frequently sighted hobo and before Bigfoot had been the only one I could give a name to. Dan seems to quite enjoy Beily's these days, mostly for the offsale that he goes to right after selling one of his drawings.

If you feel bad for thinking about Hobo Fights right now, don't...because unfortunately I did too. Well, okay, maybe we should both feel bad. Nevertheless, I'd put money on Dan. Bigfoot is a much bigger man but I've never seen him move with any kind of speed, nor do I believe that he knows what's going on around him. I believe Bigfoot to be a gentle man. Sailer Dan, on the other hand, seems like he has some anger to him. Oh, he maintains that friendly hobo image, but I think most of that can be attributed to the hat.

Let's Judge People - Part One

As a cabbie I get to meet a wide variety of people, and because these people are all different they all want something different in their taxi cab experience. For some people, they want me to talk and be friendly, but for others they simply want to get to their destination and they just a professional driver-passenger relationship. For some, they want me to get where we're going as fast as possible, while others just want to get there eventually with a comfortable ride. If I only had one style I would piss off many customers, so it's a big part of my to judge people very quickly andf decide how to act.

Before I start though, I'd like to talk about my autopilot feature. Sure, I know that sometimes I should be more talkative, but when you work 12 hour shifts, you just go into autopilot mode. Technically, me eyes are looking at the road, paying attention to traffic lights and other cars....but really, I'm not paying attention at all. My autopilot is very good, I never get into accidents, I avoid all potholes, I don't unintentionally break traffic laws. It surprises me though, because I'm in my own world thinking about something else, and yet somehow I can still operate a vehicle and navigate my way through the city. Much of my shift consists of me on some tangent of a thought process. People ask me why I look so serious and angry. I tell them it's the third line of my contract, but I only say that because I don't want to tell them that I'm not paying attention and I'm drifting off into la-la land. Autopilot...it's a beauty.

Ok, back to judging people:

Backseat vs. Frontseat
One of the biggest indicators of a person's personality is where they sit, especially if they are alone in the cab. Most people sit in the front, but if someone sits in the back by themselves, it's pretty clear that they want to be left alone. They might try to engage in small talk to avoid awkwardness, but these conversations never go anywhere. Most of the ride is spent in silence. These people are usually business people, going to/from the airport, or are residents of the suburbs of the city.

People who sit in the frontseat are usually a lot more personable and want to have a conversation, but not all. I can usually tell by the first few lines of dialogue if this person actually wants to talk. If they talk about the weather or some other bullshit like that, the conversation usually dies. If it's super awkward one of us will usually try to say something, but it never really goes anywhere. These people are usually ones who sit in the front seat to be polite. In Kenya, it's impolite to not sit in the front seat and talk with the driver (I learned this from an international student who was in my cab).

On that note, there are the couples that have one in the front seat and one in the back seat. This is kinda hard to read because I'm wondering whether a)someone is sitting in the frontseat to be polite, like mentioned above or b)they're fighting. However, this is how it usually goes. If the guy is the front seat, they are usually fighting. If the girl in the front seat, she is being polite. If the front seat passenger actually talks to me, then it is usually a good ride. If they don't say anything, the ride usually remains in awkward silence.

On the topic of awkward silence, I'd like to mention that although I usually acknowledge the awkwardness, I never really do anything about it. As I said, I'm in autopilot and usually thinking about something else. However, nothing is more awkward than when I get 4-5 people in the cab and none of them are talking. I mean, c'mon, you guys are going to a club and you're all packed into a cab. Talk please.

Finishing off the backseat vs. frontseat conversation, we have the very personable people, people who really want/need me to talk to them. There is no awkwardness here and this is usually where my temporary friendships of the evening come from. These people are most often from the poorer areas of the city. West-side etiquette dictates that people should sit in the front and talk to the driver. Some of these people are sketchy as hell, but they are all usually pretty friendly...unless they judge me as unfriendly, which does happen.

Skipping Out On The Fare

One of the biggest reasons why I need to judge people is to decide whether or not they will skip out on me. This doesn't happen often, but I'm starting to pick up on the signs:

1. Usually a single person, and in my experiences always male.
2. Friendly. They will always engage in conversation to lighten the mood.
3. Happy. People who are unhappy about paying the fare actually intend on paying the fare. If they didn't intend on paying, they wouldn't be so pissed.
4. Vague directions. Someone skipping out doesn't want you to know where the live. So, they tell you to go to an area of the city and they'll direct you from there.
5. Front seat. The back doors have child locks, if you want to skip you need to be in the front.
6. Short trip to Tim's/McDs. Always beware the customers who wants to pay $5 to go 2 blocks to get food. They probably won't pay.

So, when I see these indicators, here's what I do: I take off my glasses, I turn the headlights off, and as we roll to a stop I open my door just a crack. If they wanna run, I'm ready to go. I don't care if it's only a few bucks, chasing people down is fun. I'm ready to turn off the engine, lock the doors, and chase that motherfucker down.

Here are some tips if you're wanting to skip out:

1. Give your end destination as somewhere further than your house, but with your house on the way.
2. When you get near to your place, ask to stop for a second a 7/11, and that you'll be right back. If no one stores are near, say you need to pick up a friend at their house.
3. Live on the east side. If you say you wanna go to the west side, the cabbie will probably tell you to pay upfront.
4. Run. Don't treat me like some PoS that will let you walk away. Respect...please.
5. Talk about how shitty your day was. It will make me want to be quick to drop you off, and maybe not care about tracking you down.
6. Run fast. Don't let the cabbie run faster than you. These people have massive amounts of built-up frustration and are looking for someone to take it out on. The police won't come to their rescue when someone skips out, and the police won't come to your rescue if the cabbie catches you.

Fun fact. Everyone who has skipped out on me has lived in Sutherland and has worn a baseball cap.

This whole judging thing has taken longer than I expected it to. I'm going to call this Part One and continue this at a later date. There is a no shortage of judging going on in my cab, I will have more blogs about this in the future.