"Are You A Cop? Will You Tell Me If You Are A Cop?

Taxi driving is, and always will be about meeting people, people of course our industry, the transporting of people from a given point A to B.  Along with the actual physical body is the accompanying personality: who the individual is and all related behavior.  I often tell passengers that I meet everyone, meaning every kind of person possible in every possible state of mind and life circumstance upon our planet's surface steps into my cab; and sometimes I wish they hadn't, the experience just plainly more painful than I want to endure.

As I often say to myself, taxi is bad enough without this occurring, encountering a difficult or unpleasant person, exemplified this past Sunday by a young man in his late 20s coming from the West Seattle Trader's Joe's.  Not only did I have major problems just attempting to stop at the poorly designed parking but one glance at my customer told me everything I didn't want to know, obvious trouble was coming my way.

It was quite evident Trader Joe staff were glad to see this guy go.  Why?  Because he was clearly upset and disturbed in a manner not easily if ever resolved.  He was distressed and the source in part appeared to be a deformed and shrunken right arm, offsetting what was in every other way a normal body, the man not unlike a tilted pinball machine refusing to properly function.  I instinctively knew that he was unfortunately past immediate recall.  In other words this "goose was cooked" and there was no going back to the kitchen, this particular entree brunt to the proverbial crisp.

I initially remained calm as he kept abruptly changing our destination and route, wanting to go where no human, and especially no cabbie could ever take him.  And topping it all off, he kept asking if I was a cop. Having been through this kind of scenario before I just didn't respond, knowing crazy is crazy and there was no changing it.

Upon his persistence I finally joked that it "all depended on what his crime was" before I could determine whether he should be arrested.  That remark essentially had no impact other than to temporarily confuse him, quickly returning to having us turn this way and that in greater West Seattle. Finally, having had enough, seeing no end to it, I hit the brakes at Southwest Myrtle and 39th Southwest, saying "I have had enough.  It's over!"

Thankfully, understanding what I was saying, he peacefully paid and went on his way to where I have no idea.  He was impossible.  The situation was impossible and there was nothing I could do for the guy.  As I again sometimes remark, "I am not a social worker" and more and more I am glad that I'm not, letting someone else try to save this and any other distraught soul.  Besides I am too tired, having other priorities like closing my eyes and forgetting all about it, sleepy avoidance sometimes the best solution to the intractable.

August 1, 2017 Primary Results:  No Bob Hasegawa

Early election returns from yesterday's primary appear to indicate that my favorite mayoral candidate will not make to to the November runoff.  Just as I thought, Jenny Durkan and her $400,000 electoral war chest has surged ahead, with Cary Moon and Nikkita Oliver in second and third place respectively.  As of this afternoon, 250,000 King County remained to be counted, I don't see Hasegawa improving much upon his 8.6 percentage of the vote.  Too bad but why have the son of  interned parents when instead you can have a former US Attorney who will adjust the mechanisms of local government ever so slightly?  Change?  What the hell is that?

Who will be Seattle's next mayor?  Durkan of course, anointed in an election where a mere 34 % of the eligible voters filled out their mail-in ballots.  And by the way, during the campaign it was found that Oliver has missed many voting opportunities but I bet she voted yesterday, casting for herself.  I guess she just needed some incentive.  That's understandable, isn't it?