Oh ya! Those 4 women I got in front of Chargin's.
This happened a few months ago, in cooler weather. Doing my slow cruise, saw a few people ahead as I passed 2 cabs parked at TuMe. I parked and observed. Really, I'm looking for any sign that they are outside for anything other than a smoke break. There were still two women outside when I parked, and people were sticking their heads out the big door and going back in. I noticed the two 30ish women were dressed alike: Light blue tailored jeans, black spike heal boots, and black tops and jackets. Both had long brown hair with bangs of the curling iron curtain type. One of them was dominating the conversation with all kinds of "Fuck yous", "Fuck hers", and "I don't give a fucks". She looked for a split second at me looking, and made a point to ignore me. And on with: "Fuck Becky!".
She stays outside smoking when her clone pushed the swinging door in and came out with two more copies. Her 3 minions pile into the back seat of the cab, while she looks to me like she's searching her brain for a reason to object, but then takes her place in the front seat, and looks right at me like she expects a show. I said: "Where to"?
Don't even remember who told me to head east, and finally detailed it to La-Riv. They were all excited about some other chick they tried to talk about, but Mother Fuckyou interupted every other word. Still they kept trying to start sentences, but the fuck yous, fuck hers, and fuck Beckys just kept coming. Someone suggested Jack in the Box, and I tried to confirm. I noticed Mother Fuckyou had her face at my shoulder level, looking right at my right arm. I ignored her and got a final decision to go to the McDonald's on College Town. She kept interrupting everything the gals in the back tried to say, and they kept trying. We zooped right into the drive through, with only one vehicle in front, and already past the speaker box.
The order was taken through the window behind me, while Mother Fuckyou still had her face at my arm, with one hand up guarding the other, as I was pretty sure she had her middle finger up behind it. She was grinning and looking at her gals. Her face just got too close to me. I said: "Get your face outa mine!". She did, but looked behind her, and started putting her hands on the radio. I told her to stop it, and keep her hands off the equipment. She did the old snaky hands all over everything move, and I had to just tell her to get out. We were still behind a small white pick up. Mother Fuckyou actually told me she didn't have to get out. I very calmly told her: "Yes you do". One of the clones asked if they had to get out too. I said only their friend in front had to. But another one declared that she too would get out, if her friend had to. I reminded them all that they owed me 15 dollars. The ones in back all scrambled to gather it up, as front lady just sat there objecting. She told them no one had to pay, if they had to get out. No one made a move to get out, but one tried to slip a credit card to Front lady. She tried to take it when she finally saw it, but she was drunk enough to keep forgetting her objective, and the card slipped to the floor. I ended up with 15 dollars cash, and unlocked all the doors. I don't think Front one noticed she could have opened her door anyway, but they all got out at the same time, discussing how they would get their food. The truck was gone, and they just walked in front of my car, while I stayed where I was. They discussed it with the window guy, mostly not looking at me, but at one point front lady gave me the evil eye, smiled, and ever so delicately stepped back two paces, so I could not pass. One companion noticed and copied her move. The other 2 just looked worried. I filled out my log, and when I looked up, they were gone.
I could have avoided the whole thing................. I decided to let them in because I kinda knew they were going east. I saw enough dollar signs to justify what I thought would just be haughty insinuations of my station vs. hers. I guess she was too drunk to be subtle. But I won. I got paid, and I would be surprised if all 3 of those women were still her friends: One maybe. Not all 3.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
"Hey Lorraine. Why didn't you take that flag in front of the Senator?"
It was one of those squirelly nights: Groups ditching some of their 'friends', Bewildered dichees wondering whether to go home, or try to guess where their 'friends' went, Clueless ditchees chasing the cab that has the 'friends' speeding away.
Rarely some older creep will try to ride with one or maybe two extremely drunk young people. One tried to go home with a blind college student.
It seems like the creeps all come out on the same nights together.
So last weekend..........probably Friday night, during that frantic last hour before the bars close, I'd decided to head in the direction of home, and pick up anything I saw on the way. On L. Street, with 10th in my sights, I saw a hand go up in front of the Senator. It was two dark haired white guys in suits, one draped over the other. I pulled over toward them, lowered my window, heard one say: "no, I'm not going with you." to the other. And something told me to leave them there. I pulled a little away. They had started toward me, and I loudly uttered: "No". Sober guy says: "No?", as I pull away.
I continued on to 10th, and stopped at the red light next to the first taxi in line on the stand at 10 and K. A woman looked at me, and walked past the line up to me and asked me if I was free. Off we went to Capitol Towers. She gave me a good tip. I told her about the guys I rejected just before she got in.
Ok, now I'm on my way home for real. Phone call: It's Richard. He was parked at the Hyatt when I almost picked up at the Senator. He was just leaving the line up there, saw me leave the two guys, and pulled over to get them himself. Sober guy gave him 40 bucks to take the drape to Land Park. Drape turns out to be a pain in the ass all the way down Land Park Drive: Making noise, touching stuff, saying absurd things, and not telling Richard where on Land Park he lives. Richard drove up and down the road asking him over and over where his house was, and the Bozo just kept up the lunacy. So Richard just told him to get out. He wouldn't get out. Richard, exasperated, just drove the guy to the only place he knew for sure there was a cop: 16th and L. Four blocks from where Sober guy had given him 40 dollars to take the drape home.
At least Richard got paid. But he wanted to know why I rejected them. Something just said: NO!
There were lot's of flags out that night. It took me another hour to finally get home. I didn't lose anything listening to that little, and sometimes big voice that guides me away from trouble.
Kinda funny too: I knew the guy wasn't dangerous. I just wasn't in the mood for that kind of bullshit. Somehow I knew the guy would act like that. And the dangerous ones: I actually get a shot of fear that makes me check the locks as I drive away. That shot of fear is physical too. I feel it in my gut, and my heart pounds.
I picked up four women once in front of Chargin's, who turned out to be just what I thought they might be, but looking back: I believe I was in the mood for a challenge. I took them. I won that one.
copyright 2011
Rarely some older creep will try to ride with one or maybe two extremely drunk young people. One tried to go home with a blind college student.
It seems like the creeps all come out on the same nights together.
So last weekend..........probably Friday night, during that frantic last hour before the bars close, I'd decided to head in the direction of home, and pick up anything I saw on the way. On L. Street, with 10th in my sights, I saw a hand go up in front of the Senator. It was two dark haired white guys in suits, one draped over the other. I pulled over toward them, lowered my window, heard one say: "no, I'm not going with you." to the other. And something told me to leave them there. I pulled a little away. They had started toward me, and I loudly uttered: "No". Sober guy says: "No?", as I pull away.
I continued on to 10th, and stopped at the red light next to the first taxi in line on the stand at 10 and K. A woman looked at me, and walked past the line up to me and asked me if I was free. Off we went to Capitol Towers. She gave me a good tip. I told her about the guys I rejected just before she got in.
Ok, now I'm on my way home for real. Phone call: It's Richard. He was parked at the Hyatt when I almost picked up at the Senator. He was just leaving the line up there, saw me leave the two guys, and pulled over to get them himself. Sober guy gave him 40 bucks to take the drape to Land Park. Drape turns out to be a pain in the ass all the way down Land Park Drive: Making noise, touching stuff, saying absurd things, and not telling Richard where on Land Park he lives. Richard drove up and down the road asking him over and over where his house was, and the Bozo just kept up the lunacy. So Richard just told him to get out. He wouldn't get out. Richard, exasperated, just drove the guy to the only place he knew for sure there was a cop: 16th and L. Four blocks from where Sober guy had given him 40 dollars to take the drape home.
At least Richard got paid. But he wanted to know why I rejected them. Something just said: NO!
There were lot's of flags out that night. It took me another hour to finally get home. I didn't lose anything listening to that little, and sometimes big voice that guides me away from trouble.
Kinda funny too: I knew the guy wasn't dangerous. I just wasn't in the mood for that kind of bullshit. Somehow I knew the guy would act like that. And the dangerous ones: I actually get a shot of fear that makes me check the locks as I drive away. That shot of fear is physical too. I feel it in my gut, and my heart pounds.
I picked up four women once in front of Chargin's, who turned out to be just what I thought they might be, but looking back: I believe I was in the mood for a challenge. I took them. I won that one.
copyright 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
A taxi card, that says "Lorraine", and has a phone number.
I should really change that to: Taxilorraine, when I write my cell number on the business cards I get from the shop. I'm doing that now actually, but it's still kinda funny when I get hang up calls. Funnier when the call comes when I'm up, the phone's on, and I'm not at work yet. I just say: "Hello?"
I'm awful: I'm a grandma, but I guess my voice is still sexy half the time. It amuses me.
So Jed didn't seem too concerned when I told him that his phone called me a week earlier, twice in 2 minutes. I was driving a passenger on the freeway. All I could hear was an angry female yelling in a crowded place. I heard his voice somewhere in all that; but, he wasn't the one holding the phone. Wonder how that all turned out. He and his best bud, and a female I think was probably with him did catch a ride with me a week later.
But really: I should try to avoid that kind of thing if I can....really.
The dispatchers e-mail taxi calls to the driver's cell phones. We get the address and phone number of our customers. And half the time, just phone the rider when we get to the address. So my cell number shows up on the list of calls on the customer's phone.
I woke up one morning to a voice mail from a female I had driven the night before. She had a cell phone with her when I picked her up from her home, and took her across town to some other home. Must have been her husband's phone. She must have forgotten she called a cab with it, and received a call from the driver on it. She told my voicemail that Herb was her man, and I should stay away from him. She wanted me to call her back to explain my relationship with him. She told me he had herpes. All this from an unrecognisable number on his phone. I wonder what Herb looks like. I'll want to avoid him for sure. Now that had nothing to do with my card. I don't think she even knows the voice on the voice mail was the woman who drove her the night before. Just gonna leave that one alone. No sense leaving my number on that phone again, lest she not be the one to answer.
I just love the calls I get from druggies and pimps. How do I know they're druggies and pimps? It goes like this: I get a call to pick up "Fred" at the Super 8, in front of the lobby. It's a long way to the call, so I call the number to be sure it's legit. I get a long running homemade rap song for voicemail. I don't bother to go any farther. If they don't answer their phone, I don't go. Later that night, I answer my phone: "Taxi Lorraine". And a guy demands: "Who Zis?" I tell them it's Lorraine, the taxi driver. Sometimes they hang up, and sometimes demand to know why I called their phone. Then I program: "Not!" into my phone for that number.
There is a two way radio in the cab, and I have my cell phone. They make me feel safe. No one borrows my phone. Some don't get it. I'll offer to make a call and relay a message, but the phone stays in my hands. I'm still surprised how many don't want to make the call at all if they can't hold the phone. But I shouldn't be. I seem know who to ask for money up front from. I'm not surprised when they can't or won't produce it.
Why does a person look at all the numbers in their call list, and call the unfamiliar one? I had a ditsy customer programed into my phone as: Ditz. She had done a ditsy thing one night. Time went by, and I finally got dispatched to pick her up months later. I called her from the parking lot at her complex. She came out and got in, My phone rang. I picked it up and looked at it, puzzled. I said: "Ditz is calling me". She said: "what?". I repeated: "I got a call from Ditz." She was silent the rest of the ride, and it took me a while before I remembered that this woman was usually more animated: Ditsy really. I checked the numbers after she got out. It was her. OMG, how bad should I feel?
I'm awful: I'm a grandma, but I guess my voice is still sexy half the time. It amuses me.
So Jed didn't seem too concerned when I told him that his phone called me a week earlier, twice in 2 minutes. I was driving a passenger on the freeway. All I could hear was an angry female yelling in a crowded place. I heard his voice somewhere in all that; but, he wasn't the one holding the phone. Wonder how that all turned out. He and his best bud, and a female I think was probably with him did catch a ride with me a week later.
But really: I should try to avoid that kind of thing if I can....really.
The dispatchers e-mail taxi calls to the driver's cell phones. We get the address and phone number of our customers. And half the time, just phone the rider when we get to the address. So my cell number shows up on the list of calls on the customer's phone.
I woke up one morning to a voice mail from a female I had driven the night before. She had a cell phone with her when I picked her up from her home, and took her across town to some other home. Must have been her husband's phone. She must have forgotten she called a cab with it, and received a call from the driver on it. She told my voicemail that Herb was her man, and I should stay away from him. She wanted me to call her back to explain my relationship with him. She told me he had herpes. All this from an unrecognisable number on his phone. I wonder what Herb looks like. I'll want to avoid him for sure. Now that had nothing to do with my card. I don't think she even knows the voice on the voice mail was the woman who drove her the night before. Just gonna leave that one alone. No sense leaving my number on that phone again, lest she not be the one to answer.
I just love the calls I get from druggies and pimps. How do I know they're druggies and pimps? It goes like this: I get a call to pick up "Fred" at the Super 8, in front of the lobby. It's a long way to the call, so I call the number to be sure it's legit. I get a long running homemade rap song for voicemail. I don't bother to go any farther. If they don't answer their phone, I don't go. Later that night, I answer my phone: "Taxi Lorraine". And a guy demands: "Who Zis?" I tell them it's Lorraine, the taxi driver. Sometimes they hang up, and sometimes demand to know why I called their phone. Then I program: "Not!" into my phone for that number.
There is a two way radio in the cab, and I have my cell phone. They make me feel safe. No one borrows my phone. Some don't get it. I'll offer to make a call and relay a message, but the phone stays in my hands. I'm still surprised how many don't want to make the call at all if they can't hold the phone. But I shouldn't be. I seem know who to ask for money up front from. I'm not surprised when they can't or won't produce it.
Why does a person look at all the numbers in their call list, and call the unfamiliar one? I had a ditsy customer programed into my phone as: Ditz. She had done a ditsy thing one night. Time went by, and I finally got dispatched to pick her up months later. I called her from the parking lot at her complex. She came out and got in, My phone rang. I picked it up and looked at it, puzzled. I said: "Ditz is calling me". She said: "what?". I repeated: "I got a call from Ditz." She was silent the rest of the ride, and it took me a while before I remembered that this woman was usually more animated: Ditsy really. I checked the numbers after she got out. It was her. OMG, how bad should I feel?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I must confess: I've never been on an acid trip.
But some of my favorite passengers have!.........Not in the cab to my knowledge.
I picked up a bunch of my regulars from Hamburger Pattie's to take them home. This late 20s to maybe a couple of 30s bunch is usually pretty animated by the end of their evening, as they were when they loaded up into the van Saturday night. I'd been all over town with my 60s on 6 playing on the satellite radio most of the night........loud. It was a beautiful night: Warm, light breeze: So psychedelic.
The only guy in the bunch commented that the music sounded like an acid trip: And it was on: She described how the one and only trip she ever took happened when she was 14 years old. She felt so awful, she went home and told her mom she was sick. Her mom thought she looked pretty sick too; made her some chicken noodle soup. But she couldn't eat the soup, because the noodles were yelling at her.
Well ya know; I've heard that acid is like that: A guy I dated one summer was known as "The Pharmacist". He sampled his wares regularly. Told me the worst trip he'd had wasn't all that bad. He was amused by the little green gremlins crawling all over him. Just laid back and watched to see what they'd do. I wasn't sure I believed him: Sounded like all the other acid stories I'd heard. I believe my regular from Saturday night though. But I think it's weird that a drug could pretty much put you in Toon Town. All the trips I have ever heard about sound like cartoons. Maybe everyone who has ever had one was raised in front of the TV.
Mr. Pharmacist convinced me to sample some mushrooms once: "They're natural", he explained. I did take a little. And nothing happened. I actually forgot I took any: Until a few weeks later, when he offered them up again, and I thought: Well why not: They're natural, and they don't have any affect on me. We were at the home of a couple I met just that night, for spaghetti dinner before a New Rider's concert at the Palms. I put the mushrooms in my spaghetti. They all watched me as I ate the spaghetti. I felt fine: Until I stood up. I was so nauseated, I thought I was going to die. Mr. Pharm assured me I would be OK, and that he would stay by me till it was over. I was still nauseated when we all piled into the host couple's compact car. But, it faded away, and I thought I was fine as I tried to get out in a field of dried grass and weeds at the Palms. My arms and legs seemed to take off without me. I was walking just fine, but going real slow, because I wasn't sure my legs were attached. I didn't know where my feet would land, because I didn't know how long my legs were. They seemed to be about 6 feet long, and it made me very uncoordinated. We made it almost to the big barn doors, when Pharm let me sit down in the weeds. I was OK with that. Then the 3 all went inside without me: Wow. I don't know how long I sat there. Pharm came back out, and led me in. Host couple were sitting in front of us. The show was amazing. The lead guitarist was jumping up in the air several feet. He did that for most of the show. I was scanning the crowd, and watching the guitarist jump. Everyone in the crowd was happy. They were all smiling: Everybody. Ms. Hostess turned around and looked at me. I looked at her. She said: "You don't have to be so hostile!". I looked at her. She seemed so hostile. I looked back at the jumping guitarist, and wondered if my ride back was in jeopardy. It seemed like the concert didn't last very long. I was happy that all of those people in the audience were so happy. Shiny happy people holding hands! My legs worked better on the way back to the car, but I was silent the whole rest of the night, because I didn't want anyone to think I was hostile.
Pharm and I went on our way on foot once we got back to Host couple's lovely Davis home. Pharm lived in a 3 bedroom house with 4 other people. I'd heard that this stuff makes sex a mind blowing experience. Maybe it does. Most of the sex I'd had most of my life before that night was better, even with him.
He had something to do the next day early. I had paid the sitter to watch my boys the whole weekend, but I decided I needed to get them early. I caught a bus to West Sac, and then another to Natomas. Then I drove to the sitter's to collect the boys.
Decided then I'd tried all the mind altering stuff I ever wanted to. Decided not to be available when Mr. Pharm came a callin too.
I picked up a bunch of my regulars from Hamburger Pattie's to take them home. This late 20s to maybe a couple of 30s bunch is usually pretty animated by the end of their evening, as they were when they loaded up into the van Saturday night. I'd been all over town with my 60s on 6 playing on the satellite radio most of the night........loud. It was a beautiful night: Warm, light breeze: So psychedelic.
The only guy in the bunch commented that the music sounded like an acid trip: And it was on: She described how the one and only trip she ever took happened when she was 14 years old. She felt so awful, she went home and told her mom she was sick. Her mom thought she looked pretty sick too; made her some chicken noodle soup. But she couldn't eat the soup, because the noodles were yelling at her.
Well ya know; I've heard that acid is like that: A guy I dated one summer was known as "The Pharmacist". He sampled his wares regularly. Told me the worst trip he'd had wasn't all that bad. He was amused by the little green gremlins crawling all over him. Just laid back and watched to see what they'd do. I wasn't sure I believed him: Sounded like all the other acid stories I'd heard. I believe my regular from Saturday night though. But I think it's weird that a drug could pretty much put you in Toon Town. All the trips I have ever heard about sound like cartoons. Maybe everyone who has ever had one was raised in front of the TV.
Mr. Pharmacist convinced me to sample some mushrooms once: "They're natural", he explained. I did take a little. And nothing happened. I actually forgot I took any: Until a few weeks later, when he offered them up again, and I thought: Well why not: They're natural, and they don't have any affect on me. We were at the home of a couple I met just that night, for spaghetti dinner before a New Rider's concert at the Palms. I put the mushrooms in my spaghetti. They all watched me as I ate the spaghetti. I felt fine: Until I stood up. I was so nauseated, I thought I was going to die. Mr. Pharm assured me I would be OK, and that he would stay by me till it was over. I was still nauseated when we all piled into the host couple's compact car. But, it faded away, and I thought I was fine as I tried to get out in a field of dried grass and weeds at the Palms. My arms and legs seemed to take off without me. I was walking just fine, but going real slow, because I wasn't sure my legs were attached. I didn't know where my feet would land, because I didn't know how long my legs were. They seemed to be about 6 feet long, and it made me very uncoordinated. We made it almost to the big barn doors, when Pharm let me sit down in the weeds. I was OK with that. Then the 3 all went inside without me: Wow. I don't know how long I sat there. Pharm came back out, and led me in. Host couple were sitting in front of us. The show was amazing. The lead guitarist was jumping up in the air several feet. He did that for most of the show. I was scanning the crowd, and watching the guitarist jump. Everyone in the crowd was happy. They were all smiling: Everybody. Ms. Hostess turned around and looked at me. I looked at her. She said: "You don't have to be so hostile!". I looked at her. She seemed so hostile. I looked back at the jumping guitarist, and wondered if my ride back was in jeopardy. It seemed like the concert didn't last very long. I was happy that all of those people in the audience were so happy. Shiny happy people holding hands! My legs worked better on the way back to the car, but I was silent the whole rest of the night, because I didn't want anyone to think I was hostile.
Pharm and I went on our way on foot once we got back to Host couple's lovely Davis home. Pharm lived in a 3 bedroom house with 4 other people. I'd heard that this stuff makes sex a mind blowing experience. Maybe it does. Most of the sex I'd had most of my life before that night was better, even with him.
He had something to do the next day early. I had paid the sitter to watch my boys the whole weekend, but I decided I needed to get them early. I caught a bus to West Sac, and then another to Natomas. Then I drove to the sitter's to collect the boys.
Decided then I'd tried all the mind altering stuff I ever wanted to. Decided not to be available when Mr. Pharm came a callin too.
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