Got dispatched out to Philbrick's Fresh Market with the party going to K-mart. I pull up and I see an a blue haired old lad with her arm in a sling and a scrawny guy with short cropped hair on his head and back hair sticking out the back of his ratty Old Navy T-shirt.
They start walking towards the cab and the ol' blue hair says in the most god awful, nagging, whinny voice with an old New England accent, "Ahh... Ryan, can you open the door for me!"
"Ahh...Ryan can you help me in the cah!"
"Ahh...Ryan can you close the door!"
Now they are in my cab. With that nagging whining voice she says to me, " take me to K-mart!"
I have only been around her for a minute and every time she says something I feel a little gag reflex in the back of my throat.
We get to rolling and she sets in on poor Ryan. "Ahh...Ryan I'm going to need your help in K-mart!"
"Hmmph." Ryan moans
"Ahh...Ryan you're gonna have to help me put the stuff on the registah!"
"Hmmph."
"Ahh...Ryan, you're gonna have to put the bags back in the caht!"
"Hmmph."
I noticed the pattern here as I look in the rear view mirror. I notice that poor ol Ryan has a look of disgust on his face. I believe he was giving serious thought to jumping face first out of the cab to unforgiving pavement. Right about then I pull up to K-mart. They get out and i could see her nagging that poor ol' Ryan all the way into the store.
A couple hours pass and several fares later I get dispatched to K-mart. I knew it was for the old blue hair and poor ol' Ryan.
I pull up and I hear that familiar nagging voice, "Ahh...Ryan, put the stuff in the trunk!"
"Ahh...Ryan, help me in the cah!"
"Ahh...Ryan, close the door!"
"Ahh...Ryan, tomorrow you have to go pick up my presciptions at 9 o'clock!"
"Hmmph"
"Ahh...Ryan you go to church tomorrow, right?!"
"Hmmph...Yea"
"Ahh...Ryan, then after church go pick it up!"
I again look in the rear view mirror and poor ol Ryan is looking even more pathetic than before. All I could think was that I understand wanting to help out your mother. But, at some point one has to stop being a door mat and grow a backbone and tell this bitch to shut the fuck up.
Just when I was giving serious thought to jumping face first out of the cab to the unforgiving pavement, we pull up to that old nags apartment.
"Ahh ...Ryan....." I heard as I tuned her voice out. I just couldn't wait to get them out. Its been almost a week ago that I met her and I still cant get her wretched voice out of my head!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Ooooh....that smell
When I thought about blogging about my cabbing experiences I told myself that I wouldn't use this as a forum to make fun of those who are less fortunate than I am. I have had some fares with some people really down on their luck. Sometimes while they are in my cab I find them annoying then later after I think about it for a while I find myself feeling sorry for them I wish I could do more for them but I know I'm in no position for that.
It was a Friday morning and I was filling in because we were short a cab driver. I was the only cab from our company on the road and I had the dispatcher phone. I usually work nights and quickly learned that I prefer the graveyard shifts. Starting at about 9 A.M. I had a series of fairs involving an elderly couple. The wife was in a wheelchair and the husband appeared to be in the early stages of some form of dementia. Started out with a call from the Fair Field Inn Hotel. I was told that they had a couple that wanted to go to the Sprint store and that the lady was handicapped and needed a car because it was easier for her to get into. Luckily I was in a car and I proceed to go there. I pulled up and out they come. I get out, open the front and back passengers door and wait for them to get to the car. I get next to the woman in the wheelchair and I smell the stench of hot piss mixed with body funk. It was so bad that not only was my nose burning but my throat seemed like it was going to close on me too.
I get them in the car and we are on our way. The lady says to me that she will be about 15 minutes and that she will need a ride back. I had another run waiting for me so I told her that after that fare I will come back to get them. She agreed and all is well. After she got out all I could smell is that funk. I really dreaded going back for them but I did it anyways. I got them back to their hotel without incident.
A couple hours pass and I think I don't smell her anymore, The phone rings. Its a social worker calls me from the hospital and asked if I could pick up an elderly couple at 1:30 with the wife being in a wheelchair, and take them to the Rockingham County Courthouse in Brentwood. Holy shit, I know who that is! The social worker tells me that they are going to pay for it. I just happen to be passing the hospital so she agrees to meet me by the main entrance to give me a voucher to pay for their ride. while there I tell her that I know them because earlier I gave them a ride to the Sprint store. Then I'm off again.
A few minute pass then the social worker calls to tell me that they decided not to pay their fare because she thought they were broke. And if they could afford a cell phone then they could afford a cab ride. I explained to her that when I go to get them if they are broke I'm going to leave their asses at the hotel. She said fine.
Suddenly I'm thinking to myself, How the hell do I get myself in these situations. Then I remind the heavenly father that I'm sorry for all the bad things Ive done in my life. About that time it occurred to me that they probably don't have money so I wont have to worry about it. The smile on my face was interrupted by the phone ringing again. It was a lawyer telling me to go pick them up and that he will pay cash for it. Dammit!! Now I'm thinking about how will I prevent myself from smelling her and how will I get that smell out of the car.
At 1:30 sharp I'm at the hotel. That woman is smelling as ripe as ever. I could hardly stand it. I thought I was going to puke. I drive the 30 minutes and I get them to the court house in time and the Lawyer gave me a 40% tip on the fare That was my last fare of the day but I was frustrated that I could smell her and I knew I was going to have to get the seat she was in cleaned.
Fast forward to Saturday morning. I get online and Im reading the local newspaper online. The cover story is about a police officer who responded to a minor car accident and found an elderly couple who lives in their car with squaler conditions. He offered to get them help. They refused so he arrested the woman because she was the one who was more coherant, if you will. At the top of the article there was a picture of the couple. Can you guess who it was? You guessed it! The couple who was in my cab. Suddenly I go from being frustrated with them to feeling sorry for them. I wish I wasnt such a softy.
It was a Friday morning and I was filling in because we were short a cab driver. I was the only cab from our company on the road and I had the dispatcher phone. I usually work nights and quickly learned that I prefer the graveyard shifts. Starting at about 9 A.M. I had a series of fairs involving an elderly couple. The wife was in a wheelchair and the husband appeared to be in the early stages of some form of dementia. Started out with a call from the Fair Field Inn Hotel. I was told that they had a couple that wanted to go to the Sprint store and that the lady was handicapped and needed a car because it was easier for her to get into. Luckily I was in a car and I proceed to go there. I pulled up and out they come. I get out, open the front and back passengers door and wait for them to get to the car. I get next to the woman in the wheelchair and I smell the stench of hot piss mixed with body funk. It was so bad that not only was my nose burning but my throat seemed like it was going to close on me too.
I get them in the car and we are on our way. The lady says to me that she will be about 15 minutes and that she will need a ride back. I had another run waiting for me so I told her that after that fare I will come back to get them. She agreed and all is well. After she got out all I could smell is that funk. I really dreaded going back for them but I did it anyways. I got them back to their hotel without incident.
A couple hours pass and I think I don't smell her anymore, The phone rings. Its a social worker calls me from the hospital and asked if I could pick up an elderly couple at 1:30 with the wife being in a wheelchair, and take them to the Rockingham County Courthouse in Brentwood. Holy shit, I know who that is! The social worker tells me that they are going to pay for it. I just happen to be passing the hospital so she agrees to meet me by the main entrance to give me a voucher to pay for their ride. while there I tell her that I know them because earlier I gave them a ride to the Sprint store. Then I'm off again.
A few minute pass then the social worker calls to tell me that they decided not to pay their fare because she thought they were broke. And if they could afford a cell phone then they could afford a cab ride. I explained to her that when I go to get them if they are broke I'm going to leave their asses at the hotel. She said fine.
Suddenly I'm thinking to myself, How the hell do I get myself in these situations. Then I remind the heavenly father that I'm sorry for all the bad things Ive done in my life. About that time it occurred to me that they probably don't have money so I wont have to worry about it. The smile on my face was interrupted by the phone ringing again. It was a lawyer telling me to go pick them up and that he will pay cash for it. Dammit!! Now I'm thinking about how will I prevent myself from smelling her and how will I get that smell out of the car.
At 1:30 sharp I'm at the hotel. That woman is smelling as ripe as ever. I could hardly stand it. I thought I was going to puke. I drive the 30 minutes and I get them to the court house in time and the Lawyer gave me a 40% tip on the fare That was my last fare of the day but I was frustrated that I could smell her and I knew I was going to have to get the seat she was in cleaned.
Fast forward to Saturday morning. I get online and Im reading the local newspaper online. The cover story is about a police officer who responded to a minor car accident and found an elderly couple who lives in their car with squaler conditions. He offered to get them help. They refused so he arrested the woman because she was the one who was more coherant, if you will. At the top of the article there was a picture of the couple. Can you guess who it was? You guessed it! The couple who was in my cab. Suddenly I go from being frustrated with them to feeling sorry for them. I wish I wasnt such a softy.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Random Rambling
In my travels around the great city of Portsmouth I see many things. I see things that amuse me, annoy me, enlighten me, and humbles me. Sometimes I fell like a voyeur of the world. People watching is definantly one of my favorite pass times.
When the cabbing is slow I like to sit in Market Square and take mental snap shots of the diversity of people who inhabit the area. There are the uptight business people in suits in a hurry to get somewhere. Outside of the South Church there are always the same young, misguided youth hanging around looking for their next misadventures. Sitting at the chairs outside of Breaking New Ground ( a coffee shop) there is always a mix of young locals who live in the downtown area, tourist from who knows where and several rough neck motorcycle types. Then every once in a while, if I get lucky, I see that dude who rides his bike with a goggle wearing parrot on his shoulder.
Once I get rolling and I'm cruising around town looking for my next fare or trying to get my customer to where they want to go, I deal with a some of my pet peeves that I try to cope with on a daily basis.
I'm not trying to alienate any of my readers who may be guilty of my pet peeves. So please don't be offended. After all, often the people who annoys us the most are the people we love!
Whats the deal with smokers? I know that the majority of my friends and family are smokers, so please let me know what you think. I find a lot of them inconsiderate of others around them. They often try to light up in my cab, then get mad when I tell them to wait till I drop them off. I also don't understand why they so uncaringly fling their butts out the window. I think its rude and disgusting.
So whats the deal with bikers dressing like they are going to win the Tour De France. Dont they realize the look like 5 pounds of shit in a 1 pound bag. Not to mention I really dont like the look of their moose knuckles and camel toes! I dont have any thing against people who ride bicycles to get where they going. But they expect me to share the road with them but they dont share it with me. I dont think they understand the rule of tonnage. I would never intintionally pull out in front of an 18 wheeler so why would they cut me off! I always feel like the are trying to run some kinda scam on me.
Ok enough of things that annoy me. That is a long list of things. Maybe in future post I will cover more of them.
Every once in a while I get someone in my cab that I find interesting and kinda inspires me. Last week I picked up a guy at his huge ass house. He was went downtown to meet with a client who was interested in buying whatever it was he was selling. A few hours later he called for me to go pick him up. He was kinda intoxicated when I got him. On the trip home, he asked me if I knew what seperates succesful people from average people When I said no , he replied that succesful people arent afraid to ask for thing. I found that interesting because often I catch myself being nervous to ask people especially stangers for anything.
On the other hand, from time to time I pick people up who reminds me how lucky I am. Portsmouth is often considered a hoity-toity city with all well to do people. Though on the outside looking in you may think that. But when you get to the underbelly of the town you find that there are lots of unfortunant souls in the area who have made mistakes in their lives and are paying dearly for it. Ive watched a lady drink rubbing alcohol. Ive picked a family at the bus station and brought them to the homeless shelter. I also brought a woman from the hospital to a local hotel who was telling me her husband had a stroke while working and he may never be his normal again. I could go on and on about some of the people Ive given rides to who were down on their luck.
By the end of my shifts I have often went through a whole roller coaster of emotions. Im exhausted and I just want to go home. But I love it. It makes me feel alive and often I cant wait for my next shift in my cab!
When the cabbing is slow I like to sit in Market Square and take mental snap shots of the diversity of people who inhabit the area. There are the uptight business people in suits in a hurry to get somewhere. Outside of the South Church there are always the same young, misguided youth hanging around looking for their next misadventures. Sitting at the chairs outside of Breaking New Ground ( a coffee shop) there is always a mix of young locals who live in the downtown area, tourist from who knows where and several rough neck motorcycle types. Then every once in a while, if I get lucky, I see that dude who rides his bike with a goggle wearing parrot on his shoulder.
Once I get rolling and I'm cruising around town looking for my next fare or trying to get my customer to where they want to go, I deal with a some of my pet peeves that I try to cope with on a daily basis.
I'm not trying to alienate any of my readers who may be guilty of my pet peeves. So please don't be offended. After all, often the people who annoys us the most are the people we love!
Whats the deal with smokers? I know that the majority of my friends and family are smokers, so please let me know what you think. I find a lot of them inconsiderate of others around them. They often try to light up in my cab, then get mad when I tell them to wait till I drop them off. I also don't understand why they so uncaringly fling their butts out the window. I think its rude and disgusting.
So whats the deal with bikers dressing like they are going to win the Tour De France. Dont they realize the look like 5 pounds of shit in a 1 pound bag. Not to mention I really dont like the look of their moose knuckles and camel toes! I dont have any thing against people who ride bicycles to get where they going. But they expect me to share the road with them but they dont share it with me. I dont think they understand the rule of tonnage. I would never intintionally pull out in front of an 18 wheeler so why would they cut me off! I always feel like the are trying to run some kinda scam on me.
Ok enough of things that annoy me. That is a long list of things. Maybe in future post I will cover more of them.
Every once in a while I get someone in my cab that I find interesting and kinda inspires me. Last week I picked up a guy at his huge ass house. He was went downtown to meet with a client who was interested in buying whatever it was he was selling. A few hours later he called for me to go pick him up. He was kinda intoxicated when I got him. On the trip home, he asked me if I knew what seperates succesful people from average people When I said no , he replied that succesful people arent afraid to ask for thing. I found that interesting because often I catch myself being nervous to ask people especially stangers for anything.
On the other hand, from time to time I pick people up who reminds me how lucky I am. Portsmouth is often considered a hoity-toity city with all well to do people. Though on the outside looking in you may think that. But when you get to the underbelly of the town you find that there are lots of unfortunant souls in the area who have made mistakes in their lives and are paying dearly for it. Ive watched a lady drink rubbing alcohol. Ive picked a family at the bus station and brought them to the homeless shelter. I also brought a woman from the hospital to a local hotel who was telling me her husband had a stroke while working and he may never be his normal again. I could go on and on about some of the people Ive given rides to who were down on their luck.
By the end of my shifts I have often went through a whole roller coaster of emotions. Im exhausted and I just want to go home. But I love it. It makes me feel alive and often I cant wait for my next shift in my cab!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
That Gut Feeling
Well folks I'm out of commission this week. Hopefully I will be in my cab next weekend. I had a little surgery on my clackers and I'm in a lot of pain. But I know I will be ready for the road soon.
Anyhow I do have a little story. Because I don't carry a weapon I am always a little nervous about either picking up a fare that will turn violent or getting robbed. The more senior cab drivers tell me that its a gut feeling you get if something isn't right. Not to mention my experiences of growing up in Meadowland gives me a 6th sense if some thing is about to go down.
It was really late and the bars have been out for some time. I decided to take one more trip through downtown and get one last fare before calling it a night. There was a group of young men stand there with one punk standing in the middle of the road. He had his hands up yelling for me to stop. It almost looked as if he wanted to play chicken. For some reason I stopped. As he was walking around the cab to the passenger side he was saying something that I couldn't understand but I could tell he was belligerent. The hairs on my neck stood on end and my stomach started churning. I had the window down but the door was locked. I asked, "where ya goin buddy."
As he is reaching into my cab to unlock the door, invading my space now he yells out, "I'm going to fuckin Newington!"
At t hat point I had it with that jerk. He had that door open at that point. So I yelled back, "then you better start walking, motherfucker!" As I drove off.
I heard him yelling and calling me names as I pulled away. But I really didn't care. I knew that guy would be trouble so I left him on t he side of the road. My senior cabbies were right. You know if there will be trouble with a fare and you should leave those jerks on the side of the road.
Anyhow I do have a little story. Because I don't carry a weapon I am always a little nervous about either picking up a fare that will turn violent or getting robbed. The more senior cab drivers tell me that its a gut feeling you get if something isn't right. Not to mention my experiences of growing up in Meadowland gives me a 6th sense if some thing is about to go down.
It was really late and the bars have been out for some time. I decided to take one more trip through downtown and get one last fare before calling it a night. There was a group of young men stand there with one punk standing in the middle of the road. He had his hands up yelling for me to stop. It almost looked as if he wanted to play chicken. For some reason I stopped. As he was walking around the cab to the passenger side he was saying something that I couldn't understand but I could tell he was belligerent. The hairs on my neck stood on end and my stomach started churning. I had the window down but the door was locked. I asked, "where ya goin buddy."
As he is reaching into my cab to unlock the door, invading my space now he yells out, "I'm going to fuckin Newington!"
At t hat point I had it with that jerk. He had that door open at that point. So I yelled back, "then you better start walking, motherfucker!" As I drove off.
I heard him yelling and calling me names as I pulled away. But I really didn't care. I knew that guy would be trouble so I left him on t he side of the road. My senior cabbies were right. You know if there will be trouble with a fare and you should leave those jerks on the side of the road.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
White Lies, Flat Tires, and Rubbing Alcohol
I often wonder why when things happen you look back and you can see the chain of events that led to it. Seems that it is always a string of little things that pile up into a huge pile of stinking crap. Sometimes you may think something as a little white lie is harmless. But that little lie can set off bad karma, realign the stars, piss off the almighty god or whatever else you might believe is the reason for things going wrong. Besides having your own bad juju I think we are affected by others negative energy.
I know... I know... you are wondering why am I talking all this mojo crap. Last night I experienced a chain of events that led to me changing a flat tire and going in early on what was turning into a very profitable night of cabbing.
It was about 11: 30 PM and I just dropped off a party of six at The Page. ( for my old Navy friends that is where Bananas used to be). As they were getting out a young man came up to my window and asked if I would take him up to York, Me. That is about a 45 minute round trip and that would put me out of downtown in the heart of the busy time. There was no way I was going to do that. So I lied to him and said that I couldn't do it because I had to pickup someone else in ten minutes.
About 20 seconds after I drove off I get dispatched to the Moonlight Reader for some people whose car is broken down and needed to find a hotel. When I get to where they are I see a van with the rear passenger tire gone. They apparently drove it on the rim for a while. There were 2 guys and a girl and they obviously on some mind altering substance. After about 20 minutes I finally find a hotel that has a room for them and I'm out of there.
As I'm driving away from those three bozos I get another call to go pick up a lady and make the round trip from her home to a convenient store then to her home again. I pull up and its a small unassuming apartment complex. After waiting about 3 minutes a frail looking lady comes out and climbs into the front seat. She seemed nice enough but, my god, she is reeking of Old Spice cologne. Whatever, different strokes for different folks.
When I'm backing out of her drive way I hear the load hissing noise of the air escaping my front driver side tire. The convenient store is only a couple blocks away and I know its well lit so I drive there. Once there I called my dispatcher, told her of my situation and had another cab to come bring that lady home.
I proceed to go thru the process of changing the flat tire as the lady heads into the store. Within a few minutes the lady comes out and sits on the curb next to the cab. She tells me that after midnight the store doesn't sell alcohol beverages anymore. Suddenly she opens her paper bag and starts guzzling down a huge bottle of rubbing alcohol! I was mortified to say the least. Ive heard stories of hard core alcoholics doing that but Ive never witnessed it. Within what seemed seconds a police officer, fire truck and ambulance shows up and hauls that woman away.
It took me about an hour just to get the spare tire off the bottom of the van and then maybe 5 minutes to change the tire. By then its nearly 130 AM and I have a stupid "donut" tire on the van. I'm covered in dirt and I'm sweating like a pig. I'm really pissed off at the world at that point. My night is done!
Once back at the shop I needed to fill out all the appropriate paper work which put me in an even worse mood. I just couldn't wait to get home.
In hind sight my night started going to hell right after I lied to that guy about why I couldn't take him to York. I picked up the trio with their flat tire and there bad Karma latched on to me. Then I picked up that poor old drunk lady (who I assume wasn't wearing the Old Spice I smelled but instead was drinking it). I believe my bad aura jumped on her and she ended up in police custody.
The lesson Ive learned was to do my best to keep a positive attitude and never turn down a fare regardless if I'm inconvenienced or not.
I know... I know... you are wondering why am I talking all this mojo crap. Last night I experienced a chain of events that led to me changing a flat tire and going in early on what was turning into a very profitable night of cabbing.
It was about 11: 30 PM and I just dropped off a party of six at The Page. ( for my old Navy friends that is where Bananas used to be). As they were getting out a young man came up to my window and asked if I would take him up to York, Me. That is about a 45 minute round trip and that would put me out of downtown in the heart of the busy time. There was no way I was going to do that. So I lied to him and said that I couldn't do it because I had to pickup someone else in ten minutes.
About 20 seconds after I drove off I get dispatched to the Moonlight Reader for some people whose car is broken down and needed to find a hotel. When I get to where they are I see a van with the rear passenger tire gone. They apparently drove it on the rim for a while. There were 2 guys and a girl and they obviously on some mind altering substance. After about 20 minutes I finally find a hotel that has a room for them and I'm out of there.
As I'm driving away from those three bozos I get another call to go pick up a lady and make the round trip from her home to a convenient store then to her home again. I pull up and its a small unassuming apartment complex. After waiting about 3 minutes a frail looking lady comes out and climbs into the front seat. She seemed nice enough but, my god, she is reeking of Old Spice cologne. Whatever, different strokes for different folks.
When I'm backing out of her drive way I hear the load hissing noise of the air escaping my front driver side tire. The convenient store is only a couple blocks away and I know its well lit so I drive there. Once there I called my dispatcher, told her of my situation and had another cab to come bring that lady home.
I proceed to go thru the process of changing the flat tire as the lady heads into the store. Within a few minutes the lady comes out and sits on the curb next to the cab. She tells me that after midnight the store doesn't sell alcohol beverages anymore. Suddenly she opens her paper bag and starts guzzling down a huge bottle of rubbing alcohol! I was mortified to say the least. Ive heard stories of hard core alcoholics doing that but Ive never witnessed it. Within what seemed seconds a police officer, fire truck and ambulance shows up and hauls that woman away.
It took me about an hour just to get the spare tire off the bottom of the van and then maybe 5 minutes to change the tire. By then its nearly 130 AM and I have a stupid "donut" tire on the van. I'm covered in dirt and I'm sweating like a pig. I'm really pissed off at the world at that point. My night is done!
Once back at the shop I needed to fill out all the appropriate paper work which put me in an even worse mood. I just couldn't wait to get home.
In hind sight my night started going to hell right after I lied to that guy about why I couldn't take him to York. I picked up the trio with their flat tire and there bad Karma latched on to me. Then I picked up that poor old drunk lady (who I assume wasn't wearing the Old Spice I smelled but instead was drinking it). I believe my bad aura jumped on her and she ended up in police custody.
The lesson Ive learned was to do my best to keep a positive attitude and never turn down a fare regardless if I'm inconvenienced or not.
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Devil lives in Waterville Maine
Sitting in Market Square in downtown Portsmouth on a slow Sunday afternoon, this young guy get into my cab. Tells me he needs to go to Somersworth. We work out a price then we are on our way. Every thing was pretty standard till he proclaimed to me, " I'm going to rid the world of all evil."
After a full double take, I just looked at him with my jaw dropped and and yelped "what!"
"You may not know this but my name is Micheal and I'm the devils brother." He explained with out any hesitation.
"Really?" I asked. Then I start thinking to myself, why do these wackos seem to find me.
Micheal then proceeded to explain to me, " When God decides to take the world back to not to fear fire. It will be the cold that I need to stay away from."
"OK that makes sence to me," I answer. My thought is to keep this dude calm so he doesn't kill me.
"I know what the devil looks like, I know his name, and I know where he lives," He explains. " Because I've meet him and Ive been to his house."
"Well whats his name,what does he look like and where does he live I asked." By this time dude has my full attention and I'm just wondering what the heck he will say next.
He goes on and says " the devil is this black dude and his name is Desmond. But you cant trust him because he can change himself into a white wolf."
I thought well that's interesting. Then I asked, "well where does he live?"
"He lives in Waterville Maine" he proclaims.
"Why there?" I ask. "Why not New York or Los Angeles"
"Because that's to obvious." he tells me.
Then he whispered to me, "Wanna know something else that will blow your mind. God lives in Waterville Maine too."
By this time I'm getting a little tired of his tales so I ask him " does your family know about this."
He then tells me "That his parents think that he is crazy and should get some help."
I didn't respond because I'm trying to keep him calm. Then he asked me " do you think I'm crazy?"
"No." I said
By this time we are in Somersworth and I'm ready to get his ass out of my cab. Then he says to me, "you're a true angel. When god returns he will reward you."
He payed the fare and gave me a very generous tip. Though this kid seemed to be way out in left field, I really wasn't afraid of him. He seemed to me that he was having some mental issues and I hope he listens to his parents and take care of himself.
After a full double take, I just looked at him with my jaw dropped and and yelped "what!"
"You may not know this but my name is Micheal and I'm the devils brother." He explained with out any hesitation.
"Really?" I asked. Then I start thinking to myself, why do these wackos seem to find me.
Micheal then proceeded to explain to me, " When God decides to take the world back to not to fear fire. It will be the cold that I need to stay away from."
"OK that makes sence to me," I answer. My thought is to keep this dude calm so he doesn't kill me.
"I know what the devil looks like, I know his name, and I know where he lives," He explains. " Because I've meet him and Ive been to his house."
"Well whats his name,what does he look like and where does he live I asked." By this time dude has my full attention and I'm just wondering what the heck he will say next.
He goes on and says " the devil is this black dude and his name is Desmond. But you cant trust him because he can change himself into a white wolf."
I thought well that's interesting. Then I asked, "well where does he live?"
"He lives in Waterville Maine" he proclaims.
"Why there?" I ask. "Why not New York or Los Angeles"
"Because that's to obvious." he tells me.
Then he whispered to me, "Wanna know something else that will blow your mind. God lives in Waterville Maine too."
By this time I'm getting a little tired of his tales so I ask him " does your family know about this."
He then tells me "That his parents think that he is crazy and should get some help."
I didn't respond because I'm trying to keep him calm. Then he asked me " do you think I'm crazy?"
"No." I said
By this time we are in Somersworth and I'm ready to get his ass out of my cab. Then he says to me, "you're a true angel. When god returns he will reward you."
He payed the fare and gave me a very generous tip. Though this kid seemed to be way out in left field, I really wasn't afraid of him. He seemed to me that he was having some mental issues and I hope he listens to his parents and take care of himself.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Confessions of a part time cabbie
I notice that in my cab people's inhibitions tend to fade away. Some of my customers talk about things I'm not sure they would in most social settings. Just last week I experienced a prime example of this.
Last Friday I was cruising downtown and got flagged down by a gentleman who appeared to be in his mid to late forties. I will call him Slim. He asked " could you take me to Pepboys to pick up my friend then return back down town."
"Yea, no problem. Get in."
So we got to rollin and he remarked " god damn there are some hot women here in Portsmouth."
I nodded in agreement and said "yea youre right"
"I've been chasing skirts around here for a long time. All you need to pick up these broads around here is a long line of bull shit and a good wingman." he explaind.
"Well Ive been out of the game for a long time but back in the day I was the wingman extrodonaire." I added.
"You need to be careful though, if your wingman is to good it could mess you up then suddenly you become the wingman."
At that point I just chalked him up as a bitter, washed up bar fly and the car got quiet. Then we pull up to Pepboys. I see his friend standing in the door of the store. He was a heavy set guy who I will call Big Guy. He sits in the back seat and those two exchange pleasantries. Slim says with a complementary tone "hey, you look like you lost more weight!"
Big Guy brags "yea ive lost about 160 pounds"
Slims says "hey thats great, whats your motivation?"
Big Guy explains "Well, its no secret I was eating myself to death. I was putting on so much wieght it was getting harder for me to do things that were always easier before. Finding clothes that fit and going to bathroom was getting to be a challenge. I explained that to my doctor and he gave me a magazine/ catalog catering to people of my stature. Im looking through this and im seeing some clothes,shoes, and other items. Then I get to the end of the book and I see that they are selling toilet paper on the stick. Suddenly I realized that im a cheeseburger away from needing that damn thing."
By this time he has my full attention. Being the sinsitive guy that I am, I did feel bad for his situation but it was funny to hear it at the same time. I didnt mean to chuckle.
I think at this point Slim was feeling a little left out of the conversation. He says to Big Guy "on the way here we were talking about wingmen."
"You dont want to be this assholes wingman!" Big Guy screamed. "Let me tell you about being his wingman."
"One night we were out. These two beatuful blondes came over and started chatting it up with us. As time went by one of those lovely ladies seemed to be interested in me. She was laughing at my jokes, flipping her hair, and rubbing my shoulder as she spoke to me. Then suddenly this sombitch," pointing at Slim, " ask me, Hey how is your wedding plans going. Suddenly she stopped laughing. Stopped flipping her hair. And most importantly stopped touching. I was so pissed!"
Slim had a sly smile on his face. "You were supposed to be the wingman he slurred."
Big Guy was just shaking head.
By this time I was right back where I picked up Slim. They got out, payed the fare and gave me a nice tip. I thought to myself, that was interesting. I wondered if they were having a good time and if Big Guy was still the wingman. I also wondered how often those two stories are told. I like to think that the cab is almost like confession for the Catholics. Often the passenger is in the back seat. All they see is the back of my head and maybe my eyes in the rearview mirror.
Last Friday I was cruising downtown and got flagged down by a gentleman who appeared to be in his mid to late forties. I will call him Slim. He asked " could you take me to Pepboys to pick up my friend then return back down town."
"Yea, no problem. Get in."
So we got to rollin and he remarked " god damn there are some hot women here in Portsmouth."
I nodded in agreement and said "yea youre right"
"I've been chasing skirts around here for a long time. All you need to pick up these broads around here is a long line of bull shit and a good wingman." he explaind.
"Well Ive been out of the game for a long time but back in the day I was the wingman extrodonaire." I added.
"You need to be careful though, if your wingman is to good it could mess you up then suddenly you become the wingman."
At that point I just chalked him up as a bitter, washed up bar fly and the car got quiet. Then we pull up to Pepboys. I see his friend standing in the door of the store. He was a heavy set guy who I will call Big Guy. He sits in the back seat and those two exchange pleasantries. Slim says with a complementary tone "hey, you look like you lost more weight!"
Big Guy brags "yea ive lost about 160 pounds"
Slims says "hey thats great, whats your motivation?"
Big Guy explains "Well, its no secret I was eating myself to death. I was putting on so much wieght it was getting harder for me to do things that were always easier before. Finding clothes that fit and going to bathroom was getting to be a challenge. I explained that to my doctor and he gave me a magazine/ catalog catering to people of my stature. Im looking through this and im seeing some clothes,shoes, and other items. Then I get to the end of the book and I see that they are selling toilet paper on the stick. Suddenly I realized that im a cheeseburger away from needing that damn thing."
By this time he has my full attention. Being the sinsitive guy that I am, I did feel bad for his situation but it was funny to hear it at the same time. I didnt mean to chuckle.
I think at this point Slim was feeling a little left out of the conversation. He says to Big Guy "on the way here we were talking about wingmen."
"You dont want to be this assholes wingman!" Big Guy screamed. "Let me tell you about being his wingman."
"One night we were out. These two beatuful blondes came over and started chatting it up with us. As time went by one of those lovely ladies seemed to be interested in me. She was laughing at my jokes, flipping her hair, and rubbing my shoulder as she spoke to me. Then suddenly this sombitch," pointing at Slim, " ask me, Hey how is your wedding plans going. Suddenly she stopped laughing. Stopped flipping her hair. And most importantly stopped touching. I was so pissed!"
Slim had a sly smile on his face. "You were supposed to be the wingman he slurred."
Big Guy was just shaking head.
By this time I was right back where I picked up Slim. They got out, payed the fare and gave me a nice tip. I thought to myself, that was interesting. I wondered if they were having a good time and if Big Guy was still the wingman. I also wondered how often those two stories are told. I like to think that the cab is almost like confession for the Catholics. Often the passenger is in the back seat. All they see is the back of my head and maybe my eyes in the rearview mirror.
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