The old switcheroo:

      This was not as bad as what the rag tag bunch on the taxi stand at Amtrack does, but it sure was irritating. I cruise by the Tu-Me every shift after midnight, in a big circle that covers the Limelight, Raven, Bon-Lair, Tu-Me, Chargin's, Clubhouse 56, Socal's, Hilltop, and Cheater's. If there is already a cab parked at any one of those places, I keep going.
       The Amtrack guys all line up, and stay there for hours at a time, waiting for trains and buses. One guy will start directing traffic, as if we can't see who's first, second, etc.
        I drove up to Amtrack one night to find no one there, but 3 minutes later they were arriving en mass, surprised to see me, and that I was first. A train soon arrived, and all those drivers were at the end of the tunnel where the passengers come out.....directing traffic. The big boss asked each passenger their destination, and directed each to a taxi, careful to send the one who was going to the Vagabond around the corner to me. I don't like to argue around tired travellers. I took the lady to the Vagabond.
        So the night I noticed a Yellow behind me as I headed past The hospital toward the Club Tu-Me, I didn't think much of it. Maybe it was Taxi Dave. He wouldn't race me to it. He would pull up 2nd in line, blaring his radio to attract party types away from me, or any other cab. But at a red light, here's the cab next to me. It's not Dave. He tells me out his window: "We have 3 taxi call at Tu-Me". "Really?", say I. "Tu-Me calls Co-Op". He jumps the light and speeds up into the right lane in front of me. There's another red light ahead. He has to stop, and I zoom past him as I see the yellow on 47th half a block away. I pull up in front of Tu-Me just a second before he does. He jumped out of his cab and ran in the bar. Three people were right behind the door, and explain that they are going in two different directions, to McKinley, about a mile away, and to Arden Park, a 25 dollar ride.  He directs the locals to me, and I object  . One guy seemed to be in charge, and in fact paid for me to take another fellow to Arden Park after I explained that I was first in line, and didn't appreciate the guy behind me directing my business. They understood. I always get the classier people out of that place.
        Well I don't know what Mr. Yellow thought of the whole thing: But I notice that the rag tag bunch who monopolise the downtown stands get pretty bent out of shape when I pull up in the right lane, next to the first in line, and pick up anyone who recognises me. Hey! They want to ride with TaxiLorraine, they can ride with TaxiLorraine. Those guys want to sit for hours as their method, I use my reputation, Taxi Dave uses his music. Let the market decide.
        News travels fast. After the Tu-Me thing happened, I cruised the western part of J. Street. There was a lot of jockeying for position at the stand a block before the Sheraton. The valets at the Sheraton blow a whistle to summon the first in line a half a block before the door in front. Sometimes I have a customer call me from there, so I just pull up to get them. And sometimes a regular person just flags me down as I drive by. So I drive by often. So here I come in the right lane between 11th and 12th, when I see the guys lined up along Sheraton stand looking at me with alarm. One is standing to the left of the first cab in line. The light is red, and I'm slowing down. The light is green now! The first cab is pulled out slightly, but stops. They all look like bunnies looking at headlights. I'm 3 cabs away, and Mr. Director waves his hand at Mr. First and yells: "Go Mousa! Go!". Mousa looks so young and timid. I slowed down. He went. I went around the corner. Sometimes there is someone flagging at Ella, or Ghallager's. Sheraton had blown their taxi stand whistle anyway, and the valet would have held onto the passenger until Mr. First got there.
        Now every time I drive by a stand downtown, They all look at me. They keep looking until I'm gone. One of these nights I should wear devil horns and draw pointy eyebrows on.

What kind of person tries to prove he's better than a cab driver?

     Well I try not to set them off, because it's irritating as hell to be told every turn to take 'after' the ride has told me where they want to go, and I've confirmed it: "Let's go to R and 17th". I'm puzzled, as that place is all train tracks, asphalt, and winos. "Uh. What bar are you going to?" "Hanger 17". "Ok, Hanger 17, at 17 and S". "Ya; turn here. Now go all the way to S. and I'll show you". "Ok".
     I really do appreciate it when a drunk passenger is able to tell me, turn by turn, how to get to his house. I have to drive to the nearest corner after I drop him off, to look myself up in the Thomas Guide, but everyone knows where he lives.
     There are a couple dozen Marriott Hotels in and around Sacramento. A very serious looking 40ish couple I got out of the Raven, wanted to go to the one on Gateway Oaks, in South Natomas. There is one there, and another on what seems to be the same street, just a block up the road, and a Hilton Garden in between.
      Mr. Serious wants to stop at a small store or gas station on the way. I figure the closer the better. There is a 24 hour Safeway in the same block as The Raven. No.......He wants a little store. It's after midnight. I explain that all that's open are a few gas stations, with their doors locked, and security windows for purchases, Went 7 blocks to P Street where there is a well stocked mini mart at the 76 Station, Could have gone 1 block to Chevron first, but this guy was so intense, I just wanted for him to be able to get whatever he wanted so I could get him and his silent wife to their destination quickly. He seemed to be looking to find fault with me. Well they didn't have what he wanted. So we stopped at Chevron on the way to I Street. They had it. He got it. It was in a little bag. On to I-5 and up to Garden Highway. He told me I should know all the stores, etc, because I'm a cab driver. Cab driver's are supposed to know everything. I know we didn't pass any more open stores on the way to Gateway Oaks. Each criticism he offered was followed by a week, "ya" from wifey. I'm on Gateway....and there is a hotel to the right, up a little access road. I slow down, and ask: "This one"? He says nothing. He has his arms folded over his chest. On to the next one. He says his is the Courtyard. I think we just passed it, but he didn't say anything when we did. And there is another Marriott up the street. But although I don't know for a fact it's the Residence Inn, I think it is. I pull into the Hilton Garden, seeing only the "Garden" part. Sometimes people are confused about which hotel they are in, till they see it. So I asked him if this was his hotel, and he says: "Let's just put a stop to this right now"! I stopped, turned around, and asked him whatever he meant. There was almost 25 on the meter. He informed me that I had driven right past his hotel. Wifey managed a slightly louder: "ya". I asked him why he let me drive right on by, when he knew all along that was the one. Wifey utters: "Noooo"! I just drove them over to the Courtyard, and told them I only wanted 20. I guess they wanted to prove they were smarter than a cab driver.
       I know when I'm in the presence of someone smarter than I am. They don't have to tell me. And so far, none of them has.                                                                                            copyright 2011