Sunday, May 29, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Hookers
I'd like to take a minute here to talk about my fellow night workers, the prostitutes of Saskatoon.
I want to start off by saying that from a business perspective the prostitute industry is quite fascinating. Hookers, at least in Saskatoon, do not dress like hookers you see in movies. They do not approach you. They do not dress slutty, and they are not aggressive. They don't really advertise themselves in any way. For the last four years, I've been learning about businesses and how to create awareness of your product, of your brand, of your image...and here's an industry doing the opposite. Just interesting I suppose...
With all this secrecy, it's extraordinary to note how everybody still knows what the prostitution situation is in the city. A few months back, most of the hookers in Saskatoon moved from 20th street to 19th street....and almost everyone in the city knew about it. It was the topic of conversation in my cab, common knowledge that the hookers had moved. This information is only so good though. While people still talk about the hookers being on 19th street, their move actually only lasted a couple weeks. After that, they moved back to their regular spots on 20th street.
Some more information about hookers:
1) they usually don't work that late. After midnight you don't see that many out on the corners.
2) real hookers dress in sweatpants and hoodies, and don't advertise themselves
3) real hookers stand on corners west of the traintracks (between Ave L and Ave J)
4) police sting hookers stand on corners east of the traintracks, and they advertise. If you see a 'hooker' advertising themselves flamboyantly near the top of the alphabet, drive around the corner, there will be a cop car with all its lights turned out.
5) the officer who poses as a hooker is short with blond, spiky hair. Occasionally a brown-haired native officer poses as the hooker, she is more convincing...but the blond is more aggressive.
Due to conversations in my cab I've learned the following about hookers:
-if you bring 'the stuff', you get a discount
-business is conducted at the hooker's place
-hookers with kids ask for a few extra bucks to send their kids to the store and get them out of the house
-the best hookers are around Ave N, the more west you get from that, the worse they are.
I feel no reason to justify myself as to why I know all this. Hookers are an attraction of this city, if I'm driving people who don't live here and we go down 20th street I make a note of pointing it out. People are interested in the hooker situation....that's just the way things are. Think about it, when you saw this blog title, were you indifferent? Or were you interested in reading about hookers? Maybe it's just because it's still so taboo and yet still so very visible and a part of our society.
I'd like to end off by saying 'No', despite the suggestion I received tonight, I do not plan on befriending hookers in order to attain a discount.
I hope this was informative.
I want to start off by saying that from a business perspective the prostitute industry is quite fascinating. Hookers, at least in Saskatoon, do not dress like hookers you see in movies. They do not approach you. They do not dress slutty, and they are not aggressive. They don't really advertise themselves in any way. For the last four years, I've been learning about businesses and how to create awareness of your product, of your brand, of your image...and here's an industry doing the opposite. Just interesting I suppose...
With all this secrecy, it's extraordinary to note how everybody still knows what the prostitution situation is in the city. A few months back, most of the hookers in Saskatoon moved from 20th street to 19th street....and almost everyone in the city knew about it. It was the topic of conversation in my cab, common knowledge that the hookers had moved. This information is only so good though. While people still talk about the hookers being on 19th street, their move actually only lasted a couple weeks. After that, they moved back to their regular spots on 20th street.
Some more information about hookers:
1) they usually don't work that late. After midnight you don't see that many out on the corners.
2) real hookers dress in sweatpants and hoodies, and don't advertise themselves
3) real hookers stand on corners west of the traintracks (between Ave L and Ave J)
4) police sting hookers stand on corners east of the traintracks, and they advertise. If you see a 'hooker' advertising themselves flamboyantly near the top of the alphabet, drive around the corner, there will be a cop car with all its lights turned out.
5) the officer who poses as a hooker is short with blond, spiky hair. Occasionally a brown-haired native officer poses as the hooker, she is more convincing...but the blond is more aggressive.
Due to conversations in my cab I've learned the following about hookers:
-if you bring 'the stuff', you get a discount
-business is conducted at the hooker's place
-hookers with kids ask for a few extra bucks to send their kids to the store and get them out of the house
-the best hookers are around Ave N, the more west you get from that, the worse they are.
I feel no reason to justify myself as to why I know all this. Hookers are an attraction of this city, if I'm driving people who don't live here and we go down 20th street I make a note of pointing it out. People are interested in the hooker situation....that's just the way things are. Think about it, when you saw this blog title, were you indifferent? Or were you interested in reading about hookers? Maybe it's just because it's still so taboo and yet still so very visible and a part of our society.
I'd like to end off by saying 'No', despite the suggestion I received tonight, I do not plan on befriending hookers in order to attain a discount.
I hope this was informative.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Blame The Devil Rabbit
I justify what happened tonight by the following excuses:
1. He was probably speeding
2. Technically, he hit me
3. Stonebridge is stupid
4. It's the rabbit's fault
If I had taken the night off last night....I would have broken even, a man on a motorcycle would have driven down Hartley Road, an average drive home, and I probably would have stayed in watching movies in my underwear.
Instead...
I sat parked at an intersection in Stonebridge, where I would usually turn left and head away from this treacherous neighbourhood, where I have had more problem customers than in the alphabet jungle and Sutherland combined. However, fate had other plans (cue dramatic music). Out of the corner of my eye I saw a jackrabbit running down the sidewalk to the right. As it was a slow evening I decided to pursue the rabbit. It wasn't long before my pursuit proved fruitless and the rabbit hopped off into a nearby backyard. I drove for a few more blocks and decided the filth of Stonebridge was no longer worthy of my presence. With no traffic in sight I weaved right into an avenue with the intention of buying room to make a leftward u-turn. I check my rearview mirror one more time, weaved left, an-OH MY GOD THERE"S A MOTORCYCLE!
Screech!
Thunk!
...and a man on a motorcycle rolls on down the road.
I immediately ran off after him. After cursing me out for a few minutes he said that he didn't need an ambulance but that I should call the cops. A few minutes later his friends showed up, and then a few minutes after that the cops showed up. After figuring out he was okay, my thoughts began to turn other implications this might have. Do I still have my license (already a few points off)? Do I still have a job? Can I still afford to go to Ukraine this summer? I had never been in this situation so I wasn't sure what to expect. I was also feeling generally terrible and almost freaking out.
Fortunately, everything after this went smoothly. Despite a couple scratches the driver of the motorcycle was okay. He shook my hand and said there were no hard feelings about this. The cop was really good about it all and convinced his sergeant that what I did was not reckless driving and instead was just an improper lane change. This reduced my fine from $280 to $125 and only one point off my license instead of three. With the money I 'saved' I offered to buy them a couple 40s but they declined, shrugged their shoulders, and said: 'shit happens'.
So in the end it all worked out. With the time I missed and a $125 fine in pocket, I ended up losing $30 on the night....but that's only $3 an hour when you think of it....that I paid in order to have the privilege of driving drunk assholes around.
Could have been a lot worse....
In other news, I have a BlackBerry, which means I have unlimited internet while I'm driving.....which means Twitter.
@CarsonWid (<-------tweets posted on left-hand side of blog)
...still getting used to it, will post random updates about customers and will use the blog for ranting.
1. He was probably speeding
2. Technically, he hit me
3. Stonebridge is stupid
4. It's the rabbit's fault
If I had taken the night off last night....I would have broken even, a man on a motorcycle would have driven down Hartley Road, an average drive home, and I probably would have stayed in watching movies in my underwear.
Instead...
I sat parked at an intersection in Stonebridge, where I would usually turn left and head away from this treacherous neighbourhood, where I have had more problem customers than in the alphabet jungle and Sutherland combined. However, fate had other plans (cue dramatic music). Out of the corner of my eye I saw a jackrabbit running down the sidewalk to the right. As it was a slow evening I decided to pursue the rabbit. It wasn't long before my pursuit proved fruitless and the rabbit hopped off into a nearby backyard. I drove for a few more blocks and decided the filth of Stonebridge was no longer worthy of my presence. With no traffic in sight I weaved right into an avenue with the intention of buying room to make a leftward u-turn. I check my rearview mirror one more time, weaved left, an-OH MY GOD THERE"S A MOTORCYCLE!
Screech!
Thunk!
...and a man on a motorcycle rolls on down the road.
I immediately ran off after him. After cursing me out for a few minutes he said that he didn't need an ambulance but that I should call the cops. A few minutes later his friends showed up, and then a few minutes after that the cops showed up. After figuring out he was okay, my thoughts began to turn other implications this might have. Do I still have my license (already a few points off)? Do I still have a job? Can I still afford to go to Ukraine this summer? I had never been in this situation so I wasn't sure what to expect. I was also feeling generally terrible and almost freaking out.
Fortunately, everything after this went smoothly. Despite a couple scratches the driver of the motorcycle was okay. He shook my hand and said there were no hard feelings about this. The cop was really good about it all and convinced his sergeant that what I did was not reckless driving and instead was just an improper lane change. This reduced my fine from $280 to $125 and only one point off my license instead of three. With the money I 'saved' I offered to buy them a couple 40s but they declined, shrugged their shoulders, and said: 'shit happens'.
So in the end it all worked out. With the time I missed and a $125 fine in pocket, I ended up losing $30 on the night....but that's only $3 an hour when you think of it....that I paid in order to have the privilege of driving drunk assholes around.
Could have been a lot worse....
In other news, I have a BlackBerry, which means I have unlimited internet while I'm driving.....which means Twitter.
@CarsonWid (<-------tweets posted on left-hand side of blog)
...still getting used to it, will post random updates about customers and will use the blog for ranting.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
....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.
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.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
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?
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?
Sunday, April 17, 2011
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:
Saturday, April 16, 2011
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.
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.
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