tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47925578208022782432024-03-04T23:26:03.368-05:00As The Meter Turns"The Cabbie Joe Chronicles"Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-86620306143714305932013-05-23T18:14:00.002-04:002013-05-23T18:14:35.395-04:00Six Degrees Of Separation <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am known to be a soft touch,especially to people who are down on their luck.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other day a young couple, who would best be described as street people,approached me in my cab. Their story was that they were trying to get their dog out of the pound,so they were going around town, trying to raise cash. The girl was crying,fearing that if they were not able to put enough money together,the dog would be put up for adoption or worse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I of course felt bad for them,and I gave them $10.00 towards the $90.00 they needed to spring Fido. They were very grateful, and later that day I heard that they were able to raise enough money to get the dog out. I also heard that they got a basement apartment and were able to move out of the rundown motel that they were living in. I was pleased to hear that things were coming together for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today as I sat in my usual spot at a plaza waiting to get a dispatch,a buddy of mine walked over to me.The first thing I noticed was his best friend- an old golden retriever-was not with him. He was also limping and his right hand was covered in wounds. I asked him what happened,he told me a new couple had moved in next door,and that they had a Pit Bull.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Pit Bull had attacked his dog and was ripping it apart,when he stepped in and tried to save it. My friend ended up with numerous puncture wounds to his hands-and torn muscles in his leg,from kicking the pit,in an attempt to get it to release his dog. When he was finally able to get his dog free,they were both covered in blood. He rushed the dog to an emergency vet, where after hundreds of stitches they were able to save it. The vet bill was $3,000 which my friend had to borrow to save his gentle friend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you may have guessed by now,the people who moved in next door to my friend,are the same people, who had the day before, asked me for money to help get their dog out of the pound. And yes their dog was the Pit Bull, that ripped my buddies best friend apart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I felt absolutely terrible about this whole situation,and no I didn't have the courage to tell my friend that I knew these people,nor that I contributed to getting their dog released from the pound.</span></div>
Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-27716765507297554782013-01-24T23:05:00.000-05:002023-03-18T11:04:53.342-04:00Small Town Life.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">After writing in my blog yesterday,about the kid I had known way back when. I started to think about all the families and individuals,I have come to know over the years. I have had many customers,who's kids I have watched grow up.From grade school,to high school,and often to college.Its great to see these kids and/or families mature. Some are sad stories,but there is often good ones as well. I can't drive down the street,without someone waving to me or vies versa .I picked up a beautiful young lady yesterday . Soon as she settled into her seat,she looked at me and said,"hello Joe"! I didn't quite recognize her,until she said "I'm Meghan,you used to take me to school,when I lived on Lawrence,with my folks." She is now the manager of a large pharmacy in town.After dropping her there,I thought it lovely that she would remember me ,and the cab rides to school. But small town life is like that,and I like that.</span></div>
Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-23866962168122364532013-01-23T17:47:00.000-05:002013-01-23T17:56:59.634-05:00Predictable.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I picked up a young guy today at a government housing project. He was heading 20 minutes north to Colburne. (I have changed the towns name and the guys name,to protect his privacy) He was going up to the Provincial Police station there,to be fingerprinted.As he had been previously released from custody, with a promise to appear. It is a fifty dollar run each way,and he wanted me to wait,so it was a good fare.<br />
Being as inquisitive as I am (ok just plain nosey) I asked him what he had done, that required him to be printed. Apparently he had been involved in some B & E's and was in possession of some cocaine. He told me it was all pretty dramatic,with the cop's kicking his buddy's door in and having their guns out.<br />
There is not a lot of crime up this way,so I can only assume the cop's love a little action, when they can get it,or maybe even when they can create it.<br />
As we drove north, I looked over at this kid, something about him looked familiar. I asked him his name and he told me it was Lance. I asked him if he had lived at the address where I picked him up,for a long time? Born and raised he said. He had also just turned 18 a few days ago,and that tied in,because this is my 18th year driving cab in town. Suddenly it kicked in, the memory of a mouthy little kid,with a mop of curly blonde hair and an unusual name.I recall he stood out among the other kids in the complex,and unfortunately not in a good way.<br />
So here he was all these years later,and in trouble with the law.I asked him if he was using legal aid,in order to get a lawyer. No he replied,"I have a lawyer,and I gave him three grand up front. "<br />
Wow I said,"thats a lot of coin little brother." No sweat he said,"I have more money then I know what to do with." He did pull out quite a wad of cash,when it came time to pay me. Alas the only people I know, who carry that kind of cash around,are dealers. When I think back, to what this kid was like when he was young, it was all so predictable.</div>
Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-86126083812212760742012-04-18T17:25:00.000-04:002012-04-18T17:25:13.836-04:00Dancer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I picked up a young lady yesterday,who was on her way to the court house, for an appointment with her probation officer. During her brief ride in my cab,I learned quite a bit about her life.<br />
I asked her what she had done, that resulted in her having to see a probation officer.<br />
Transportation fraud she replied, She had taken a cab from the city, and when they arrived in town here, $140.00 later,she realized that she did not have her bank card nor any cash. I laughed at the irony and asked if she had enough money for this trip,no problem she replied, waving a fist full of cash over the front seat.<br />
Wow I said looking at the wad of cash,"you must have a good job". What do you do for a living I asked her? I am a dancer she replied,as in a stripper I asked?"yes I work at a very popular bar in the city" she replied."But I am having a rough time lately,in the past month I overdosed on cocaine,and was rushed to the hospital,I almost died." "So I am trying to stay clean,but it is not easy". I don't doubt that,I told her.How old are you I asked? 22 she replied, God I thought, so young, and such a degrading job,probably the reason for using cocaine.<br />
She went on to tell me that she worked in the V.I.P. section of the bar,and also did some back room specials for $120.00. She seemed really proud of that,and was pissed off, when in her words, minorities who worked there, came in and under cut her,doing the special's for only $40.00.<br />
What do your parents think of all this I asked her? "Oh they disowned me a few years ago" she replied.<br />
How sad I thought,thinking of my own daughter,who not much older then this girl,is working on her masters degree at university. Maybe if her parents had not given up on her so early,the path she chose may have been different. </div>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-90957181099583418462012-01-11T18:32:00.000-05:002012-01-11T18:32:20.011-05:00"A Cry For Help"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The dispatcher radioed that there was a request for me to pick up at a local restaurant this afternoon. I often get requests during the week from different people,so I had no idea who I was picking up.<br />
When I arrived it turned out to be an old buddy of mine,a fellow I met when I first moved to town,some 20 odd years ago.<br />
I usually run into Jake(not his real name) while sitting in the plaza waiting for a dispatch,he wanders over with his best four legged friend "Charlie" and we shoot the breeze for a while. Jake is on permanent disability,he suffers from seizures,the results of a street fight with 5 young punks about six years ago now.<br />
Jake, like a lot of us, has had a pretty rough life,seven years of it, in and out of jail. But that and an addiction problem are long past . He has played it straight for several years now. Still a tough looking dude with a lot of ink,he is in his forties now and a pretty mellow guy,one that would give you the shirt off his back.<br />
As he got in my cab today,I realized I hadn't seen him for a week or so,I asked him where he had been.<br />
He told me he had just been released from the psychiatric ward in a city hospital. He had attempted suicide a few days ago,ingesting a 150 prescription pills. He was found by his landlord laying unconscious on his kitchen floor. He was in a coma for two days,and at one point the doctors apparently thought they had lost him. Thankfully that was not the case.<br />
<br />
Jakes attempt at ending his life shook me to the core.Here is a friend that I see almost everyday,some one that over the years has shared his life story with me , as I have shared mine with him. But I never saw this coming.I knew he struggled at times with living alone and not being able to work,but I obviously never saw the depth of his emotional pain.<br />
When I asked him today why he had done it,his reply was that "he couldn't take it anymore".Life had beaten him down and "he was unable to get any help". Professional help in the form of psychiatric care or even properly trained mental health therapists, is sorely lacking in this town. <br />
Jake is now under a psychiatrists care ,and it appears that he will finally be getting the help he needs, but having come close to losing his life in order to get it is appalling! <br />
<br /></div>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-62114290265326095992011-12-18T19:20:00.000-05:002023-03-18T11:04:53.377-04:00Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-54843875812610036712011-04-10T07:08:00.000-04:002011-04-10T07:08:10.170-04:00"I'm sixteen and can do what I want"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Last evening I was dispatched not to an address, but the intersection of two dirt roads out in the country.<br />
I am not fond of these type of dispatches-because with no actual address its a crap shoot whether there will actually be anybody there. But there she was a young girl standing on the side of an open field-cell phone in hand.<br />
She jumped in the back blurted out an address in town,and continued a rapid fire conversation on her cell with what I assume was one of her girlfriends.Talking away on her phone-like most teenagers do-like she was the only one in the car,nothing subtle with kids,<br />
I usually turn a deaf ear to babbling teenagers engaged in conversation-but this one caught my attention.<br />
She had just had an argument with her Mom about her skipping classes. Her failing grades at school and her failure to do any chores while her Mom was away on business for two days.From what she was saying I guessed this argument ensued in the kitchen and her Mother had thrown and broken a glass on the floor.I assume out of sheer frustration.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> The girl continued on with a taunting tone about how she had run up to her room.Made up her bed like she was under the covers and then slipped out the back door to call a cab.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"I would love to see my Mom's face when she realizes I 'm gone" she exclaimed to her friend. "My Mom's a fucking psychopath- throwing a glass like that." "I'm sixteen and can do what I want-there is nothing they can do about it it" she went on.She was apparently going to couch-surf now for the rest of the week- end and maybe even stay away for a week.I cringed at the thought of her poor parents not knowing where she was.I was going to suggest to her that what she was doing was not the brightest idea.But I doubted she would be much interested in another opinion from an adult-so I kept quiet.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As I dropped her off at her friends house and drove away,I kept thinking about what she had said about her failing grades an skipping so many classes,and her problems at home.God I thought ,sixteen years old,she is still just a baby in the scheme of things.What will her life be like as she reached maturity I wondered.I consoled my-self with the thought that this was probably just her time of teen age rebellion.I hope so-we have enough lost teenagers living on the street. </div><div><br />
</div><br />
</div>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-74247539195342635402011-01-19T17:48:00.001-05:002011-01-19T17:52:46.566-05:00Walking The Walk-Rather Then Just Talking The Talk.''<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5WKNagay3SaCbmBKAKNW1xELcaTTI9y7sbPagnhzBCwnuDGi73mE1-dab2xI9ZbVSZu0k6pVTKQ9-sZLsPp_KUNTsVp_7X_0KiBV5Il6nQ2fvgLXd_kKP_V3SW2xjS6lOU6ZHvdCza8/s1600/1care.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5WKNagay3SaCbmBKAKNW1xELcaTTI9y7sbPagnhzBCwnuDGi73mE1-dab2xI9ZbVSZu0k6pVTKQ9-sZLsPp_KUNTsVp_7X_0KiBV5Il6nQ2fvgLXd_kKP_V3SW2xjS6lOU6ZHvdCza8/s320/1care.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Today I was dispatched to pick -up at one of our seniors residences. On arrival I saw two personal support workers{P.S.W} standing by a very elderly woman in a wheel chair.Of course my first reaction was "oh great this is going to be a time consuming pain in the ass".(A piss poor attitude from the get go.)<br />
One of the psw's opened my passenger door and told me "we have to get the lady in".You have to get her in, not me, I replied.Furthermore I told her we have a wheel chair van available and that's what you should have booked.The psw claimed she wasn't aware of that-and asked if we could give it a go with my car.<br />
Go ahead I mumbled, as I engaged myself in a rather juvenile "shit fit".I sat there fuming as they struggled with this poor woman-who had to weigh all of ninety pounds.I turned the meter on as they jostled her around, trying to figure out the best way to get her in the car.Christ almighty I thought-and "these two, do this for a living!"Mean while the old woman was having a shit fit of her own.She was shaking like a leaf and voicing in no uncertain terms her lack of confidence in the two psws ability to get her into the cab, in one piece.(so that made two of us)<br />
When they did finally manage to get her in,she was pretty much horizontal across my front seat.I managed to get her vertical enough -and thus off my lap-to get her seat belt fastened.I then put her wheel chair in the trunk, tied the lid down-and we were off.As we drove I asked the psws "what in God's name was this visibly fragile woman doing going out".She has a dentist appointment at the mall-came the reply.<br />
Apparently she had not been out of bed for a year-the dental visit was an urgent matter.As we continued on towards the mall-I started to have a case of the guilt's.I was thinking about all the times I preached the golden rule to my friends."No one gives a shit about anyone other then them selves" I can also often be heard lamenting.<br />
I thought of my late mother-fragile herself in her last years.What would she think if she saw how I treated this old woman- with such impatience and indifference.I was feeling rather ashamed of my behaviour as we pulled into the mall.<br />
Wanting to rectify this-I told the psw's to leave the lady-and that I would get her out, and into her chair.<br />
I took on a completely different attitude as I opened her door."Listen darl'in" I told her, "I am a big strong guy and I want you to just put your arms around my neck-like you were giving me a big hug".'Well you do look strong she replied"-''you won't let me fall will you?"Not a chance I told her-"I will hold on to you like it was our last dance"! This made her smile as she reached out and timidly put her arms around me.I gently lifted her up-she panicked a little-and I reassured her that she was safe in my arms.I slowly got her turned around and was able to get her comfortably into her wheel chair.<br />
As the psw's prepared to wheel her into the mall-I told them that if the wheel chair van was not available when they were ready to go back-to just ask for me and I would come back for them.Which I ended up doing a couple of hours later.With a little attitude adjustment I was back "treating people the way I would want them to treat me".Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-85059701709980610352011-01-09T20:52:00.000-05:002011-01-09T20:52:43.676-05:00Domestic Violence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"></span><br />
<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 20px; padding-right: 100px; word-wrap: break-word; zoom: 1;"><div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><strong>I just had the unfortunate experience of overhearing a domestic in the </strong><strong>apartment directly across the hall from mine.If it had been just a case of two adults yelling at each other,I would probably not have gotten involved. But upon hearing the voice of a child screaming for someone with a phone,I bolted from my chair.I opened my apartment door to see a little boy about five or six years of age.He was hysterical, crying and asking if I had a phone.A female about 25 was standing with him.I asked what was going on-she replied that her male partner had struck her-and she had struck him back.The male was heading out of the hallway down the stairs at this point.The little boy kept yelling to me that the man was bleeding.I asked the woman if indeed that was the case,she replied yes,he is bleeding from the head.I called the police who thankfully, arrived with-in minutes of my call.</strong></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><strong> Everyone concerned was taken in by the officers,and I don't believe the male party was seriously injured.But what a horrible situation for a child to witness.I found myself unduly shaken by this incident.It no doubt triggered some memories of my own dysfunctional childhood.</strong></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><strong>I share this incident because no where near enough is being done to address domestic violence.</strong></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><strong>We have in this town a women's shelter-but no avenue of help for the men involved.Locking them up in jail and forcing them to take an anger management course is not the whole answer.This course of action-from my own personal experience in talking to men who have been involved in domestic violence-is rarely effective.</strong></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><strong>What in my opinion is needed, is a shelter of some kind, where these men, prone to violence,can get professional help.Whether it be court ordered or a voluntary admission.This very dangerous issue of domestic violence must be addressed.Not just at the punitive level-but also at a therapeutic level.These men are acting out this way for a reason.We as a society owe it to our children to delve deeper into this issue. </strong></div></div></div>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-82462590267859979372011-01-07T17:46:00.001-05:002011-01-07T17:48:40.852-05:00Finger Print This!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdMExuBEw9vMHWITU4qEEHKSbhsb9gfJpgkaR_RG54JQesR3BtrxLyvzvHLxjHV9TDtEKCBC4r3pzOzQ5Xrg_3E14PQY1Yh3slxt1CtnaDaH5W6l3LLUO4VpVIEDIiRlhNwzFW_37EDA/s1600/1B10EC0B-4D1B-4E98-BD9F-202021B91A7F.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdMExuBEw9vMHWITU4qEEHKSbhsb9gfJpgkaR_RG54JQesR3BtrxLyvzvHLxjHV9TDtEKCBC4r3pzOzQ5Xrg_3E14PQY1Yh3slxt1CtnaDaH5W6l3LLUO4VpVIEDIiRlhNwzFW_37EDA/s320/1B10EC0B-4D1B-4E98-BD9F-202021B91A7F.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It is time for the annual renewal of my cab license.Our town requires a criminal record search,a drivers abstract, and two passport size photos -to be submitted with the renewal application each year.<br />
I thought I would get the process started today-as it is due by the end of this month.So I stopped in at our local police station to get a criminal record search done.Much to my surprise when I also asked for a vulnerable sector verification to be included(as I have for the past 16 years) I was told that things in that area had changed.The women at the counter informed me that the RCMP (our equivalent to the American's FBI) the policing body that handles these searches -now requires applicants for this search to be finger printed.I was told that this pertains to men over a certain age who have a birthday matching that of a convicted-but since pardoned offender.So she ran my birth date on the computer,and sure enough my birthday came up as a match to some criminal or worse yet some pervert! I balked at this and strongly exclaimed to her that "I have never committed a crime in my life-let alone been convicted of one!"<br />
That may be true she replied "but this new policy was put in to effect to catch those offenders who may have changed their name and not notified the RCMP". This is bloody ridiculous-I have never changed my name-and this farce of a policy smacks of a police state! It also smacks me large as discrimination based on my age and gender. I'll be damned if as "an innocent tax paying citizen" I am going submit to having my finger prints taken to appease the police-because I share a birthdate with some scum bag.This has to be a violation of my rights under the "Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms" which I quote here~"Part one "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><strong><a class="anchorLabel" href="http://laws.justice.gc.ca/fra/charte/1.html#codese:15" name="codese:15" style="color: #006633; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none;">15.</a></strong></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> (1) Every individual is equal before and under the law and has the right to the equal protection and equal benefit of the law without discrimination and, in particular, without discrimination based on race, national or ethnic origin, colour, religion, sex, age or mental or physical disability."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;">As I told the women at the police station I will forgo that part of the search for now-as I am not sure that its even required by the towns by-law department.But more importantly I want to challenge this new policy. Fortunately for me my oldest brother is a top notch human rights lawyer-who has his own law firm out on the west coast.I called him immediately after leaving the police station.He agreed with me that this new policy appears to be discriminatory.He has asked that I fax all the information regarding it to his office and he will look into it further.Stay tuned. </span></span>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-37060221877851329702011-01-01T14:48:00.000-05:002011-01-01T14:48:29.915-05:00The New Years Eve Leftovers.Since I took a pass on working New Years Eve this year-I got roped into working New Years day.<br />
While waiting for my first call this morning,one of our female drivers (I'll call her Candy) came over the radio.She needed help getting a guy who had passed out on her-out of her cab.The dispatcher asked for a volunteer to go give Candy a hand in trying to wake this dude up.<br />
So with nothing else to do I went up to the address to see if I could help.<br />
I recognized the fellow who was laying back in her front seat.He was a semi regular fare when I was working the night shift.He is one of the few good drunks you get on nights.He is never combative or abusive and always paid his fare with a nice tip on top.But man he was out cold in her cab.Candy and I tried everything to wake him up.I finally reached in-grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, and shook him till his "chops flopped"-all to no avail.So I finally suggested to Candy that the only thing she could do was call the police.Candy had already been on the road for 14 hours-and was not impressed that she had to deal with the police.Something she had already had to do three times in the past week-tis the season.<br />
When the police officer arrived he didn't have any more luck waking the guy up then we did. <br />
Finally the officer put on his gloves-went over to a snow bank-made a snow ball-and stuffed it inside the guys shirt collar! What a hell of a way to get woken up-but as the officer said-"it may be cruel-but its effective"!He was damm straight on that-it did the trick- and the fellow finally came too.As I left the three of them there to sort out the fare-I thought "now there is a humorous story for my blog". <br />
It has been a lot more pleasant this past month or so(with the exception of the bloody traffic) now that I am on the day shift.But alas not much happens that is worth blogging about-but then I guess life is all about trade offs.Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-53523150487809826682010-12-18T22:49:00.002-05:002010-12-18T22:53:44.695-05:00"My Way Or The Highway"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgMLNO0Ds41Ck5xF4SEYDN3vNryLL-utC4oV_5-wOWEgg1oF7ihCZQEqAQSEZrr6aVTLSgrH5NJhkOIZnyFlZPmgKO4rIo06Pp2DZPs-eFFQO-_kfTBQw-keC1WPqDoem4t9B278UY6U/s1600/42E35F60-7B07-4505-A291-68BAA1E4A937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="97" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgMLNO0Ds41Ck5xF4SEYDN3vNryLL-utC4oV_5-wOWEgg1oF7ihCZQEqAQSEZrr6aVTLSgrH5NJhkOIZnyFlZPmgKO4rIo06Pp2DZPs-eFFQO-_kfTBQw-keC1WPqDoem4t9B278UY6U/s320/42E35F60-7B07-4505-A291-68BAA1E4A937.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Back in the early days of my driving career I was a Transport driver.I was married at the time with a young family.My former wife and I had just purchased our second home-with a considerable mortgage payment to meet each month.So in order to make ends meet-along with my full time job as a truck driver-I started driving highway coach part time on weekends.(Similar to the one pictured above.)<br />
Some may think the incident I am about to share is more nasty than humorous-but none the less its a true story-and I can laugh about it today.<br />
I was dispatched out of the coach yard to pick up a group of tourists at a hotel in the suburbs of Toronto.They were visiting from Montreal and were enroute to see a Blue Jays game at the Sky-dome in downtown Toronto.I had 47 people on board as we left the hotel.About halfway down the highway the coach started having mechanical problems.First the turn signals stopped working-then as we got closer to the downtown core-the power steering went on it.<br />
So here I am on the highway trying to change lanes in this big coach with no signals-then trying to weave through downtown side streets with what was now "arm strong" steering.This was not only dangerous-but also a royal pain in the ass.<br />
I managed to get the coach into the stadium and after all the passengers were off-I went in search of a pay phone.<br />
I reached the company mechanic- who was at home on call at the time.After explaining my situation he calmly told me to bring the coach back and get another one.What?? I exclaimed-the companies yard is a good hour an a half drive from Toronto!<br />
I told him to go get me another coach and bring it down to the city-and he as the "mechanic"-could limp this one back.Thats the way its done in the trucking business I informed him."This is not the trucking business"was his reply.I was now livid-and doing my best to hold my tongue.<br />
"I'll think about it I told him"- and hung up the phone before I lost it on him.<br />
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<br />
I walked around the stadium a bit trying to decide what I was going to do.Actually I had already decided what I was going to do-"tell him where he could shove his bus"!I was really just walking around trying to figure out how to tell my wife-that I had quit another job.Due to what seemed an incurable streak of impatience- mixed with a short fuse-I had literally quit dozens of jobs during those years.This was not going to go over well at home-that was a given.<br />
So I climbed back into the coach and headed for the yard-doing my best to get there before anything else went wrong with it.It was well after dark when I arrived.I just backed it into the waste disposal area-drained the toilet- and parked it in an empty slot.The office was in darkness-the staff had long gone-and other drivers were out on trips.So with no one to bitch to I just got in my car and headed home.Leaving 47-soon to be- pissed off French men at the sky dome in Toronto -wondering no doubt what the hell happened to their transportation back to their hotel.The phone was ringing off the hook for hours after I had gotten home.I told my wife not to bother answering it-as I had no intention of going back.I never did find out how they got back.I can only assume the mechanic was summoned to get off his comfy couch at home-get in another coach -and go and pick them up.Makes me think he should have done it my way in the first place.Needless to say that part time job was history. Probably didn't do much for the Francophones opinion of anglophones either. ;)Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-21082179587469503732010-12-18T20:15:00.001-05:002023-03-18T11:04:53.262-04:00Back in the early days of my driving career I was a Transport driver.I was married at the time with a young family.My former wife and I had just purchased our second home-with a considerable mortgage payment to meet each month.So in order to make ends meet-along with my full time job as a truck driver-I started driving highway coach part time on weekends.(Similar to the one pictured above.)<br />
Some may think the incident I am about to share is more nasty than humorous-but none the less its a true story-and I can laugh about it today.<br />
I was dispatched out of the coach yard to pick up a group of tourists at a hotel in the suburbs of Toronto.They were visiting from Montreal and were enroute to see a Blue Jays game at the Sky-dome in downtown Toronto.I had 47 people on board as we left the hotel.About halfway down the highway the coach started having mechanical problems.First the turn signals stopped working-then as we got closer to the downtown core-the power steering went on it.<br />
So here I am on the highway trying to change lanes in this big coach with no signals-then trying to weave through downtown side streets with what was now "arm strong" steering.This was not only dangerous-but also a royal pain in the ass.<br />
I managed to get the coach into the stadium and after all the passengers were off-I went in search of a pay phone.<br />
I reached the company mechanic- who was at home on call at the time.After explaining my situation he calmly told me to bring the coach back and get another one.What?? I exclaimed-the companies yard is a good hour an a half drive from Toronto!<br />
I told him to go get me another coach and bring it down to the city-and he as the "mechanic"-could limp this one back.Thats the way its done in the trucking business I informed him."This is not the trucking business"was his reply.I was now livid-and doing my best to hold my tongue.<br />
"I'll think about it I told him"- and hung up the phone before I lost it on him.<br />
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<br />
I walked around the stadium a bit trying to decide what I was going to do.Actually I had already decided what I was going to do-"tell him where he could shove his bus"!I was really just walking around trying to figure out how to tell my wife-that I had quit another job.Due to what seemed an incurable streak of impatience- mixed with a short fuse-I had literally quit dozens of jobs during those years.This was not going to go over well at home-that was a given.<br />
So I climbed back into the coach and headed for the yard-doing my best to get there before anything else went wrong with it.It was well after dark when I arrived.I just backed it into the waste disposal area-drained the toilet- and parked it in an empty slot.The office was in darkness-the staff had long gone-and other drivers were out on trips.So with no one to bitch to I just got in my car and headed home.Leaving 47-soon to be- pissed off French men at the sky dome in Toronto -wondering no doubt what the hell happened to their transportation back to their hotel.The phone was ringing off the hook for hours after I had gotten home.I told my wife not to bother answering it-as I had no intention of going back.I never did find out how they got back.I can only assume the mechanic was summoned to get off his comfy couch at home-get in another coach -and go and pick them up.Makes me think he should have done it my way in the first place.Needless to say that part time job was history. Probably didn't do much for Francophones opinion of anglophones eitherCabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-79695415703807948832010-11-18T05:46:00.000-05:002010-11-18T05:46:33.942-05:00Fair Well To The Drunks-Scam Artists- And Crack Heads.Hello little old ladies and grocery runs.I have requested a transfer to day shift. After 14 months of working the night shift-I have had enough.I've been assaulted-verbally abused and threatened-cleaned up after grown men who have puked in my cab-and ripped off for fares to many times.I'm burned out, and its time for a change.<br />
What other business requires one to continually have to argue with people to get paid for their services? The occasional hassel over a fare I can accept-but when I am continually having to call the police just to get some asshole to pay me-thats just bullshit, that I am no longer willing to put up with.<br />
I made the final decision at the start of my shift today.My first fare was a sweet old lady who I got out and helped into my cab.She was thanking me profusely for helping her.When I told her it was no problem at all-she told me that rarely does a driver get out and help her.<br />
That surprised and angered me at the same time.I mean I can be as lazy as the next guy-but jeez the poor thing was about 80 years old ,and walked with the aid of a cane.What happend to common courtesy?<br />
When I dropped her at her apartment building,she wanted to tip me for the $5.00 fare.I refused and told her all cabbies are not the same-and that my being courteous did not require a tip.<br />
As I got back in my cab I felt some satisfaction that I was able to help this lady- that I had left her smiling.<br />
Thats when it struck me that, that was what I missed-the satisfaction of helping people out.Be it even just a small gesture such as that.<br />
Prior to becoming manager at my former employer-I drove day shift there for 10 years.Which for the most part involved dealing with a totally different clientele, then one would find driving nights. Seniors-students-and also people with special needs.<br />
I must add that of course not all my fares at night are obnoxious assholes-I have met and befriended many nice people that were sober, and even some of the piss tanks as well.<br />
My former girl friend once suggested that I had become a little to sanctimonious-as I myself have been living a clean and sober life for quite some time now.I hope that she is mistaken-because that is certainly not my intention.The night scene is just not for me anymore-I find it depressing listening to my fares babble on in their drunken state.The young women openly discussing their sexual preferences with their friends-the guys talking about the latest shit kicking they gave some dude in the bar.The women wanting to trade sex for the fare-the couples male and female, doing each other in my back seat.I could go on and on-I have seen and heard it all.So hopefully next week it will be day shift for me-and if I get some granny who feels the need to share her favorite position in the sack-I will be sure to share it with you! ;)Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-89193804013570930892010-11-01T08:22:00.000-04:002010-11-01T08:22:20.024-04:00Lonely Strangers In The Night-The Unexpected Sequel!Staggering out of the bar, she heads over to my cab.I recognize her as the lady I had for a tour of the town just a couple of weeks ago.Only this time she is visibly wasted-and has one arm in a cast.She gets in and I say "Susan-thats you're name isn't it?" She looks over at me with bleary eyes and Say's "oh its you -the blog guy".Yup thats me I tell her-well she says "now you have another story to write".She then leans into me, head on my lap-and starts rubbing my leg and lets her hand roam a little to far south for my liking.Whoa I tell her as I push her back into her seat.What? she say's "I just want to snuggle with you".Well thats not on my to do list tonight sweetie- I tell her.You going home?I ask her. Yes she replies-"no tour tonight-just take me home-unless we can go to you're place".I ignore that and start out for her house.<br />
On the way I ask what happend to her arm-"got drunk fell down and broke it" she says.Jeez I reply-don't you think maybe you should get off the booze-maybe hit an AA meeting or get into rehab? Nah she says "been there done that".Not feeling in "the social worker" state of mind tonight, I left it at that,and we continued the rest of the ride in silence.<br />
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When we arrived at her place the fare was $20.00-she starts fishing through her purse for the money.But of course there was none-and she couldn't find her debit card.I'm starting to get frustrated at this point-as it was a busy night- and I didn't have time for this.<br />
Come on Sue-I tell her-you're costing me money-do you have the fare or not?<br />
"Yes-yes"she exclaims -its here some where!Here you look she tells me-and passes me her purse.<br />
I hesitate-but then figure I won't get paid if I don't.But before I do,I ask her if there is anything in the purse thats going to "stick me or cut me?"(With that comment-I figured I must have watched to many episodes of "COP'S") But on a serious note,I really didn't want to come into contact with a dirty needle at the bottom of her purse.<br />
Thankfully there was no needles-but there was also no money.Jesus Sue-I tell her-don't make me call the police.Go ask you're landlady or a neighbor to lend you the money.She's muttering away now fumbling through her jacket and jeans all to no avail.So I reluctantly pick up my cell to call the cops.I really dislike involving the police-when its a situation like this-a non hostile fare-who is just really messed up-hell I've been there myself.But I also knew if I didn't-I would never get paid-and I have bills of my own to pay.<br />
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The police response was rapid as usual(they really look after the cabbies in our town).Two officers in an SUV and one in a cruiser pulled up.One of the officers recognized Susan-and exclaimed "not you again!"So obviously she has had some history with them.He asked her some questions-inquired about how she planned on paying me etc.Her replies where not winning her any points-as she was rather vocal about her disdain for law enforcement in general-and this officer in particular.His response to her was "that she was really starting to piss him off"and for her to get out of my cab. <br />
He then took me aside and told me "this women has a problem not only with alcohol,but with opiates as well".At this point he turned to Susan and told her that he was taking me into her house to go "shopping".He was giving me permission to go in and take a CD or DVD player or whatever I wanted to take and hold, until Susan paid the fare.I was like..uh...is that legal? His reply was "that it may be unorthodox-but its not illegal"."I mean fair is fair is it not?" he asked me.Well I guess so-I replied.Its either that or I can arrest her-he told me.<br />
Just then a car pulled into the driveway-it was Susans landlady.The other officer went inside with her-and a few minutes later came out with $25.00.The landlady has paid it he said-and keep the change.One more thing before you go he said-tell you're fellow cabbies to black list this women-she is not to be picked up again under any circumstances.I'll pass that on I told him-and thanked him for their assistance.As I pulled away I thought about the last encounter I had had with this women-and how I had thought at the time that under different circumstances-I would have asked her out-YIKES! I sure know how to pick them!Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-87934593334109383592010-10-06T08:27:00.000-04:002010-10-06T08:27:49.293-04:00Lonely Strangers In The Night.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Its just after 2am-I'm dispatched to an east end donut shop.I don't see anyone around,as I look through the shop window I see a women slouched in a chair.She appears to be the only patron at this wee hour of the morning.A straggler from the bar across the road I assume.Sure enough she notices me and comes walking out the door.Well I think-at least she is not staggering-and she's rather attractive as well.So she gets in the front seat and promptly rests her head back-getting good and comfortable.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where to I ask her? Oh any place she replies-can you narrow that down I ask? Well how about your place she says.Uh that's not an option I tell her-now where do you want to go? Well she says "I need to get some sleep-and I can't go home".Why not I reply-"I'll wake up the landlady,and since I just moved in-I don't want to piss her off",she says.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay I tell her-but you will have to give me some idea where you want to go.So once again she says "well take me to your place-you seem like a nice guy".Are you married-do you have a girlfriend she asks?No-none of the above I tell her-but I don't even know you-and you can't stay at my place.Why not she asks? How about because I am just not </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">comfortable with that scenario I tell her.Fair enough she says-'then lets go to Niagara Falls".</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm now thinking WTF? She doesn't appear to be that intoxicated-and I can only detect a faint odour of alcohol.So I tell her Niagara Falls will cost you at least $400.00-so what she replies-"I have money-It can be our first date"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What are you on I ask her? Nothing she replies-I have just had a few drinks and I can't go home.I think about it for a minute-and finally tell her-"listen its 2:30 in the morning,I'm off shift in a few hours,and I don't feel like driving to the falls and back."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I can't do this dance any longer-its costing me money-tell me where to take you in town-or you will have to get out."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay she says-then lets just drive around for a while.Fine I replied-but I need some up front money.How about $30.00 to start with I tell her.She agrees and we run it through my debit machine-and to my surprise the transaction is approved.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So off we go-with her now leaning on my shoulder.By this time the dispatcher is calling me-asking if I had picked up yet?As I tried to reply-Susan- as she had now introduced herself-starts poking me in the ribs-and carrying on.I am now laughing at the absurdity of this whole situation-and answer the dispatch in the midst of her trying to tickle me."Yes-14 has picked up for unknown destinations"I tell him.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We drive all over town-then out to the country a bit-she shares a little of her life story-I share with her a little of mine.The meter hits $30.00-I pull into a gas station-and ask her now what?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lets keep going she says-"I'm enjoying this".By this time from what she has shared with me-I realize that she really can't afford this.Let me drop you home I tell her-I won't charge you anymore."Well let me show you some pictures of my kid's and grand kid's first she says".</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I said okay- and shut the timer off on the meter.She takes the pictures out of her purse-and shows me some really beautiful photos of her family.I tell her a bit about mine-and that I to, am a proud parent -and a Grandfather as well.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She tucked the photos back in her purse-and says lets drive some more.So I run her debit card through for another $30.00-but this times its declined.That can't be she exclaims-I have my rent money in there! So in case its an error with my machine-we head to a bank machine.When we get to the bank she tells me to go through the drive thru.You will still have to get out to enter your pin number I tell her.No I don't she says-just close your eyes.She then proceeds to literally crawl across my lap and use the machine via my window.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Um this is a little inappropriate I tell her-don't you think? Nah she says "were friends now".</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The ATM spit out the cash-and away we went again.As the meter climbed towards the eighty dollar mark-I finally talked her into to going home.We sat in front of her house and chatted for another half hour (off the meter) and I was actually quite taken with many of the things we had in common.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"This was God's plan that we met tonight" she said.That comment rather struck me-for personal reasons.I don't know if it was God's plan or not-but I do know that if she had gotten the only other cabbie on shift at the time I picked her up-she would certainly be waking up in Niagara Falls later this morning-and unable to pay her rent.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I felt good about that-my integrity remained intact,and I met a very interesting lady.One who under different circumstances I probably would have asked out.</span><br />
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Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-87900221683361505252010-09-08T15:15:00.001-04:002010-09-09T04:02:34.103-04:00Pay It Forward.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"></span><br />
<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 20px; padding-right: 100px; word-wrap: break-word; zoom: 1;"><div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">I am a strong believer in "paying it forward".Whenever someone does me a kindness-I always try and pay it forward-no matter how big or small the act.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">It became obvious to me today that an old friend of mine believes the same thing.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">He won a small- but significant amount of money -to a working man-in a local lottery.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">I have- due to illness-fallen behind financially,to the point that I am a month behind in my rent and bills.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Today when I awoke their was a message on my voice mail from this fellow.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">He wants to hire me to take him to the city tomorrow to collect his prize.I don't see him often anymore and he had no idea how far behind I am.He has always been a nose to the grind stone worker-and struggled his whole working life.He is now in his late sixties-and still working.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">When I was in a management position I gave him off season work-in fact the last time he worked for me he was so broke he couldn't afford new shoes-so I gave him a pair of mine.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">This man has a hard edge to him-he was a Military Police Officer way back in the day.He beat the bottle many years ago-but still retains that gruff personality.One that many people over the years found hard to warm too.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">But If I have been given any gifts in this life-It is(not always)but often, the ability to see past the rough exterior of an individual-and see their heart.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">And Mr.P. always had that-he showed that heart more to suffering animals-then people.He was always concerned about strays-and even when it was a financial hardship he would-and still does I'm sure-donate money to the S.P.C.A.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"> Mr.P. has not only offered me the opportunity to earn a big fare with his trip to the city-but has also offered to loan me the money to catch up on my rent.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">I cannot help but feel God's hand in this turn of events-and for that I am very grateful.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Congratulations on your windfall Mr.P.You finally caught a break in life-one you richly deserve.</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Rest assured that when the opportunity arises, I will be sure to pay you're kindness forward.</div></div><div><br />
</div></div>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-79078627523921133372010-08-14T14:35:00.002-04:002010-08-14T14:44:25.087-04:00Ode To Skunk!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySXaK0YqLoiYw3asxiQZMAwlG6YpJ3rwe5O0kcHF9ZwmPhCsUdX7N5l9S2h-cjTpcO5C3RtA__SpyZzIk9WYVKOoZkY2Luo-Qe3dHWWZG0furY6zsgWmvhJh9NopbHJOhNtcZ2TvvAcU/s1600/u15403331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySXaK0YqLoiYw3asxiQZMAwlG6YpJ3rwe5O0kcHF9ZwmPhCsUdX7N5l9S2h-cjTpcO5C3RtA__SpyZzIk9WYVKOoZkY2Luo-Qe3dHWWZG0furY6zsgWmvhJh9NopbHJOhNtcZ2TvvAcU/s320/u15403331.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">About 2:30.am I am dispatched to a house in town.This fellow opens my back door -toss's a bag of beer in the back-and then gets in up front with me.</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Immediately the cab is filled with the putrid smell of skunk spray."My buddies dog just got sprayed and I caught part of it",he says."I hope I don't smell too bad".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Bad"?? I tell him-"buddy you smell like you slept with the fucking thing!" </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Are you still going to take me home he asks? A little late for that question pal-you and the "stink" are in the car now I say- as I button down all four windows.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As we proceed to his ritzy home in the north end of town, the smell ripens and I get an intense headache. Its a $15.00 fare-and I cant get this dude out of the cab fast enough.He pays by debit and gives me a lousy $1.50 tip thanking me profusely for the ride.Ya well I guess you will be sleeping the garage tonight I tell him.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Its bar rush and as I clear the fare over the radio-I tell the dispatcher the situation.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Danny I say "my car just wreaks-looks like I will have to call it a night". He is not impressed."Just do one more he says-its a $40.00 fare out of town".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Alright I replied-trying to think of how to explain to the next fare why the inside of my cab smells like a skunks den. I decide to tell them I hit one dead on, on the road-thus the intense smell.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I pop three Tylenol for the worsening headache and head over to pick the fare up.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I arrive and two pretty young ladies get in the back.I wait rather anxiously for their reaction to the odour.They give me directions to their house in the country.As I am about to apologize for the smell-one of the girls exclaims "man it smells good in here." What kind of cologne are you wearing-she asks.I stifle a laugh and tell her, "musk" good ole "musk".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I burst out laughing-are you two drunk I ask?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Actually no-were not came the reply-why do you ask?So I told them the story and all three of us burst out laughing.They still insisted the cab smelled nice, as I pulled into their driveway and wished them good-night. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"People"-ya gotta love them!</span></div>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-78966801309565610912010-05-11T05:33:00.003-04:002010-05-11T05:49:30.475-04:00Just Another Example Of The Negative Ripple Effect-In The Need To Get High.I picked up a young lady about 30 years old stranded at the local MacDonald's.She was about 3 hours from home,and somehow lost her car while on a drug run for methamphetamine.<br />
Apparently this drug is quite popular in the small community that she lives in.She needed to get to Clayton* about 45 minutes from here.Her poor Mother-and this was Mothers day-would drive down from her home town to meet us there.The young lady didn't have any money-imagine that-so her Mom was going to pay me when we arrived in Clayton.<br />
I hesitated to make the $125.00 run,with-out the money up front.Its something I rarely do,as 9 times out of 10 you will end up getting burned for the fare.<br />
But it was a dead slow shift ,and it was obvious I wasn't going to make much money in town, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt.Hoping it wasn't just another bull shit story and that her Mom would actually be there with the money.<br />
As we headed down the highway,the women started to bitch about the cost of the cab ride.I'm so sick of hearing this from people I almost stopped and kicked her out.But I held my tongue-and tried to explain to her the costs involved in operating a cab.<br />
But I wasn't getting through to her.So I just cut to the chase and told her-as she used my cell phone for long distance calls to track her Mom's progress and smoked my cigarettes-that I wasn't running a fucking charity!<br />
Which part of this being a business to make money do you not understand I asked her? Do you have these conversations with your drug dealer? Do you bitch at them about the cost of the illegal poison they are selling you-are these scum bags not in it to make money?<br />
I went on to to tell her straight up, that I my-self had, at one time, issues of substance abuse in my life.Not the particular poison she was hooked on-but poison all the same.<br />
The conversation took on a calmer tone after that,and I tried to offer her some sound advice on getting clean and sober.She became more receptive and stopped bitching about the fare ,when she realized I'd been down a similar road in my life.<br />
As in, I no longer needed to scramble all over hells half acre-and take expensive cab rides, due to my irrational need to get high.<br />
As we arrived in Clayton we continued our conversation-and I didn't charge her the $25.00 an hour waiting time usually applied in these situations,as we waited for her Mom to show up.<br />
So in essence I had given her a few breaks-and saved her Mom some money in the process.<br />
When her Mom did arrive she looked weary and rather haggard-and my heart went out to her.<br />
Addicts not only put them-selves through hell-but the people who love them as well.<br />
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* Clayton is a Fictitious town.Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-17762103592491444142010-05-11T04:06:00.001-04:002023-03-18T11:04:53.186-04:00Does The Bitching Ever End?I picked up a young lady about 30 years old stranded at the local MacDonald's.She was about 3 hours from home,and somehow lost her car while on a drug run for <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: yellow; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">meth</span>Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-84102561978296805492010-05-09T05:47:00.002-04:002010-09-13T04:42:25.878-04:00You Know You Have Followed The Straight And Narrow To Long When...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13vc7NVozSp_fo1L8YwqIrQgDDdR5J4d2GjAK0nz1vhP2YDHN5YH3t2D4l-G-CSNGzaGjMIRbBI3HaLjunmCi8ptdPVtIAFe0Zy-oSgq7RQ1yxVudOJvQFAxJqFEoKq56ulWf-mE3FQM/s1600/Indian_Charas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13vc7NVozSp_fo1L8YwqIrQgDDdR5J4d2GjAK0nz1vhP2YDHN5YH3t2D4l-G-CSNGzaGjMIRbBI3HaLjunmCi8ptdPVtIAFe0Zy-oSgq7RQ1yxVudOJvQFAxJqFEoKq56ulWf-mE3FQM/s200/Indian_Charas.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>I picked up a really nice group of people at a local pub tonight.They were headed out to what I assume was their home in a rural area,about a twenty minute drive from town.<br />
From their accents I gathered they were from somewhere in the U.K.We all laughed and joked,and listened to some good music, on a station requested by the fellow sitting up front with me.<br />
When we reached their destination,this fellow paid me and gave me a very generous $7.00 tip.As he was getting out of the cab,he also handed me something else."This is also for you he said" as he passed me a small round piece of what looked like black gum,the size of a smartie.I at first thought he was being a smart ass-and asked him what the hell is this? (Duh) The guy who had to be in his mid-forties,just smiled pointed to his nose and closed the door.I was about to toss it out the window,when I got a whiff of it.It smelled faintly like pot-this is when the little bulb in my brain went on, and I realized it was a probably a piece of hash.<br />
Though I have no issue with what folks choose to smoke (I'd much rather have a fare stoned on pot,then pissed drunk on booze any day) I literally hadn't seen a piece of hash since I was in my teen's.<br />
That scene is just not a part of my life style.But I had to laugh to myself as I drove back to town-the guy must have thought I was from mars!<br />
As for the small black gummy stuff-I passed it on to someone who would enjoy it.Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-19725730312714129852010-04-28T03:15:00.003-04:002010-04-28T14:22:09.186-04:00Meeting Donald Sutherland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6GlDMTAeILqtxhY44w30d6dD9mqqFaZpj9NBxZkDSl8r5SBxivIkMOq1Cd-MKOxUfglGfvfehif4OOCYyNdwY4QLfxp8IpKmEtENOLoygj7JLbUthBzU8ynnsZDXfRGn3lKBlj57fKE/s1600/3B2AA664-26B9-4E74-AEE5-72ACB11C5294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6GlDMTAeILqtxhY44w30d6dD9mqqFaZpj9NBxZkDSl8r5SBxivIkMOq1Cd-MKOxUfglGfvfehif4OOCYyNdwY4QLfxp8IpKmEtENOLoygj7JLbUthBzU8ynnsZDXfRGn3lKBlj57fKE/s320/3B2AA664-26B9-4E74-AEE5-72ACB11C5294.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Meeting Donald Sutherland today, was without a doubt, the highlight of the year for me .<br />
He has been in town for the past week filming his new movie "Man On The Train".I had been cruising around town in my cab,when I got a call from my buddy and fellow Cabbie Grizz."Come on out to the west side plaza,I just had my photo taken with Donald Sutherland". What I exclaimed-"you lucky bugger,I'm a big fan of his".<br />
So I immediately booked it west bound to check out the action.When I arrived the parking lot was all a buzz with the movie crew shooting a scene at a local barbershop.Grizz was off duty sitting in his big black GMC, camera in hand.Being a retired copper and active freelance photographer,as well as a part-time cabbie,the Grizz doesn't miss much.<br />
So I asked him, how did you manage to get a photo with Mr. Sutherland? Easy he say's,I just went up to him and asked if I could have my picture taken with him,and he said sure.So one of the crew on hand, took Grizz's camera, and was kind enough to take some nice shots.<br />
Jeez I said you got stones-I wouldn't have the nerve to do that.But I wish I did, I told him. "Mr.Sutherland is not only a great actor,but also a great Canadian".Exactly Grizz replied,"the man's one of us Joe, a fellow Canuck,go on up and ask him,and I'll take the picture".<br />
So after some humming and hawing on my part,and knowing I'd never get another chance to meet him,I said what the hell let's go.<br />
As we waded through the crew surrounding Mr.Sutherland,I kept thinking some security goon will stop us and tell us to piss off.<br />
But on the contrary I didn't see any security people,and the crew let us through no problem.<br />
I approached the actor said hello, put out my hand,he shook it,I then asked if my buddy could take a picture of us,and he said sure, no problem.I was delighted,Mr Sutherland could not have been more gracious. <br />
Now here is a famous actor,who has appeared in well over one hundred films,with his ego firmly intact.<br />
I have never in all my years, even been close to a movie star,let alone had my photo taken with one.<br />
You are a true Canadian gentleman Mr. Sutherland,and you made this small town cabbie's day.Thank you!Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-6239387663712582052010-04-28T01:54:00.001-04:002023-03-18T11:04:53.092-04:00Meeting Donald SutherlandCabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-25460202908676289472010-04-14T02:37:00.001-04:002010-04-14T02:42:47.677-04:00White Trash?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5iUgs8dxSmoMet6NRhSAk66AsPlt15IG69MYY-lDelbslicE7WuowRQfUbYcmYfFxwH81WnH_wGBv3T_VyyBPLFJIZtw-2uJL22mH7orjldIqHfwuVxIojYaVD-Les98gPh8ZGSADlVg/s1600/whitetrash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5iUgs8dxSmoMet6NRhSAk66AsPlt15IG69MYY-lDelbslicE7WuowRQfUbYcmYfFxwH81WnH_wGBv3T_VyyBPLFJIZtw-2uJL22mH7orjldIqHfwuVxIojYaVD-Les98gPh8ZGSADlVg/s320/whitetrash.jpg" /></a></div>We have a driver who has a tendency to speak his mind when ever a fare pisses him off,which seems to occur quite a bit.<br />
Yesterday he picked up this guy who was well dressed in a leather jacket and expensive looking shoe's who was bragging about a great score he had just made in a drug deal.But at the end of the trip-and it was a short one-he told the driver he was $3.00 bucks short of the fare.<br />
So the driver flips out on the guy yelling and swearing at him-then tells the guy "your noth'in but white trash,get out of my car"!<br />
So needless to say the customer calls dispatch to file a complaint.And bless her heart, the dispatcher puts it out over the air for not only this driver to hear,but the rest of us and our fares as well.<br />
She was on fire-telling him she was sick of getting complaints about him-and if it kept up he would be looking for a new job.Then she raises her voice and add's "AND DON'T BE TELLING OUR CUSTOMER'S THAT THEY ARE WHITE TRASH!!"<br />
I nearly pissed myself laughing,as the fare in my cab joined in.I mean I feel for the guy,the jerk probably was a dead beat,but I tend to say these things under my breath not out loud.Not very professional and certainly not good for the company's image.Then to have the dispatch broadcast it all over the air,well that just topped it off.As I have often said over the years "where can you have more fun,and make less money,then in the cab biz".<br />
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.Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4792557820802278243.post-68433734801981700012010-03-01T06:23:00.001-05:002010-03-01T07:48:49.454-05:00The Pepsi Slam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJPVxZbmUYCepDm0noi4P2zN80vbYugv2Sbnoy5XkcI-uh0J55HoAp0p5j14hvWfUQXABy7recqr1z1ANIEZkNBGiraMSDr0jGZooEIz7YWTfybxg-btzwcQANy6IpBTNGciQtzYPNkYw/s1600-h/is.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJPVxZbmUYCepDm0noi4P2zN80vbYugv2Sbnoy5XkcI-uh0J55HoAp0p5j14hvWfUQXABy7recqr1z1ANIEZkNBGiraMSDr0jGZooEIz7YWTfybxg-btzwcQANy6IpBTNGciQtzYPNkYw/s320/is.jpg" /></a></div>After picking up two punks at one of the bars, I headed up the road in the direction of the destination they had given me.<br />
A block away the female punk starts freaking out on me,hurling non-stop profanity.She insisted I was going the wrong way.I assured her that the street address she had given me was in the direction I was going.I've been doing this a long time I told her,I know exactly where your street is.<br />
This all fell on deaf ears as she continued her verbal abuse.Finally after another few blocks of this crap,I pulled over,and told them to get out.<br />
To this point her male companion had been silent,and in fact he got out of the cab.She refused to get out,and continued her verbal barrage.<br />
I had more than enough of this drunken bitch,and told her in a more direct manner to "get the fuck out my car!"<br />
"fuck you" she says! So I tell her fine,I'll have the police remove you."Go ahead she screams,calls the cops ,I dare you''!<br />
I reach for my cell and start to dial 911-this is when she decides to make her exit.Meanwhile I'm on the phone with the police dispatcher telling her whats going on.<br />
I don't think I'll need the police now I tell her-they have gotten out of the cab.<br />
They didn't pay what was on the meter I told her,but I don't care,I just wanted them out.<br />
Just as I was about to end the call,the female whips open the passenger door and starts screaming more obscenities at me.<br />
Then suddenly the guy appears, pushes her out-of-the-way,reaches in my car,grabs a full bottle of pop out of my holder and slams it into my face.<br />
I shoot the cab forward with the door still open ,and he jumps out-of-the-way.<br />
The police dispatch is still on the line,and I tell her that I have now been assaulted and to send a cruiser.<br />
As I pull away from this crazy prick-he starts chasing my cab.He's now throwing whatever he can at the car as I roll down the street.I roll for a block and this maniac is still running full-bore behind me.<br />
Finally I see in my rear view mirror that he has collapsed on the road.I turned at the nearest corner to put a little more distance between us, and wait for the police to arrive.<br />
And arrive they did-they swarmed the intersection-with one cruiser pulling in behind me, on the side street,and the rest going after this jerk and his girl friend.<br />
I was really impressed with the police response-they were just terrfic.They had these two under arrest before I had even given the officer- that had pulled in behind me- the details. <br />
I was asked to go to the police station and give a video statement of everything that had occurred.<br />
While I was sitting in the station,I over heard the police talking about the guy that had struck me.He apparently would not give them his name-choosing to cuss them out instead.<br />
I also heard them dealing with the girl-she was all mouth, untill they told her she was being locked up for the night.She was suddenly not so tough-as she broke down bawling.<br />
She was charged with drunk and disorderly,and would be released with a ticket when she sobered up.<br />
The guy was charged with assault with a weapon,and would be transferred to a detention center.He will remain in custody untill he is brought before a justice of the peace for a bail hearing.<br />
The detention center is a nasty place-I hope the puke gets to share a cell with a large dude named "Bubba" who hasn't been laid in the past year!Cabbie Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09841379888797278071noreply@blogger.com6