Bad Night

It seems odd to me that this taxi driving job started out, with no interference from the taxi cab company, as somewhat idyllic: extremely nice people getting into my cab, some of them gorgeous young, talkative women; people really appreciative of my efforts at courtesy and good service. And the money seemed adequate, with a hint of being good in the future.

Large Richards
Lately, however, things have been a bit on the side of suck. At least once a night for the past two weeks I have received dispatches either to addresses that don't exist, or to existent addresses where no one has called for a cab (a no-show). I guess some people have plenty of time in their schedules to be dicks. I just wonder if they're sitting somewhere they can see the cab as it pulls up to where the address is supposed to be so they can stick their hands down their pants for the final glee as the driver searches in futility, or if it suffices just to know that a cab is being sent to wherever their cell-deficient brains asked for it to be sent.


My First Scary Ride
Sunday night I started around 9:00, about an hour earlier than what I had established as the usual. After one no-show call, I received another dispatch, with a pickup name of Danny. It was an apartment block in a nice enough looking neighborhood in a nice, clean, suburban town. As usual, the number was nonexistent in the building, or the block was laid out weirdly and the building with the number I was looking for was on the other side of the block. Honestly, I don't know how the police can find these places in emergencies.

I pressed the Callout function on my cab's computer, which then triggers a computerized call to the customer announcing that the cab has arrived, and then instructing the customer to enter the number of minutes he or she would like the cab to wait.

I received a "Coming out in 1 minute" response. And then almost immediately a man came out shaking his head. Danny came to the cab and asked if he could pre-pay twenty dollars with a credit card for me to take his nephew only a few blocks down the road. He absolutely could, and after the card was authorized and the transaction completed, he directed me around to the back of the complex where he said his nephew was waiting. On the way I asked him for the address to where his nephew was going. Uncle Danny said he didn't know; the nephew would tell me. The nephew, around age 20 or so, by my estimate, said good-bye to his uncle and then got in. I asked him the address of where he wanted to go, and he said, "I think it's 2421."

"Street name?"

"Uhhh. I don't know the street name." A little alarm bell went off in my head.

"Do you know how to get there? You can just guide me."

"Okay. Yeah. I'll guide you."

So then we commenced on a meandering path from that town to the one adjacent. He directed me only to major roads and seemed to have no clue. More alarm bells. I had started the meter so that the dispatcher would know that I had a customer, as well as to know just how much of a tip I was going to wind up with at the end of the trip. At $9.20 on the meter, the nephew said, "Can you take me back to my uncle's? I'll just stay there and have to [mumble, mumble]... Is that okay?"

Trying to conceal my frustration, I said, "It's fine."

I set the GPS to the original address because I knew we had not traveled in the most time-efficient manner, and, by the meter, I was already nearly halfway through the pre-paid amount.

I dropped him at the place where I had picked him up, and he asked, "How much?"

I said, "Your uncle already paid."

Nephew got out of the car, and I beat it out of there. A few minutes later I called the dispatcher to tell him there was something fishy about that ride. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I was suspicious of the whole thing. The dispatcher asked me if it looked like the kid was trying to make some sort of drug deal connection. I told him that I saw nothing of that sort, but felt possibly that he was casing the cab, perhaps for a later attempt to do something to me or another driver. But would they pay $20 to do that? Maybe if it wasn't their credit card...

Later in the evening I had another call to a different town, this time for Benny. After "Danny," the alarm bells were ringing again. I activated the Callout function, and the response was that the customer would be out in one minute. Five minutes later no one had come down from the apartment. I pressed the Callout again, and again I received a one-minute response. Five more minutes later (that's the time I'm required to wait before I can request a callout or request a no-show) there was still no one in or near my cab. So I pressed the no-show request function. No sooner had I done that than two young men came out of the apartment building. They stood behind the car for a few moments while one of them finished smoking a cigarette. Then they got in the car. The one on the passenger side said, "Why you didont call?" His voice was thick with an eastern European accent.

"I did call," I said, but my answer apparently didn't matter to him, nor did the fact that I "didn't" call. "I tell you where to go."

Amid a non-stop conversation with his friend in what I can only guess was Russian...maybe Ukrainian, he directed me to another apartment building about $7.00 away. Then he asked if I could then take them to "the liquor store. Is good for you, yes?"

"Absolutely," I replied, while the voice in my brain was replying, "Get the fuck out of my car!"

So I drove them to the liquor store, waited for them to get their elixir of choice — while fearing they were going to rob the place — and then returned them to their destination. The fare was $11.00, and the guy gave me $18. Not so bad for being a somewhat unnerving couple of passengers.


What the Suck?
I spent the rest of the night fighting — and losing to — the urge to sleep. One more fare from a bar I've picked up from at least twice each week that I've worked nights, and Rose, my dialysis Gramma who loves me, and for whom I park in her zone at 3:30am so I'll get the call to pick her up (the dispatch computer sends the closest cab).

From 4:00 on it was so dead out there that my computer booked me off for lack of activity! I had sat on one post for more than three hours, so I decided to move, and to get a breakfast sammich and some coffee. Of course, no sooner had I started on my way than my computer came to life with a fare! Easy pickins, the guy was headed to a nearby commuter train station, where I dropped him off.

When I booked back in to the system, I saw there was an open fare in a town about ten miles away. I have no idea how long it had sat open, but I booked it within a minute or two of seeing it. I fairly raced to the address, as I knew it was at least a fifteen minute ride to get there, answering the dispatcher once when I was asked my ETA to the customer, which, at that moment, was less than five minutes. The customer never canceled, but when I got to the address, the Callout response came back as "Invalid response or no answer." At that point I have to wait five minutes before I can ask for a No-show, but after the alloted time I did another Callout, just in case the caller was on the phone or something. After another five minutes, I hit the No-show. Fucker.

From there I finally got my breakfast, and then I went to the Village of Schaumburg office to turn in my application for a chauffeur's license.

So, on the night, I took in $52. I spent $21 to fill the gas tank at the end of my shift. The chauffeur's license application cost $60 (and that's the half-year rate!). I finished the night $29 in the hole.

Aren't jobs supposed to make you money?



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