Everything That Isn't Fun About Taxi: Nearly Mashed By A Dump Truck!

Making sense of taxi is like making sense of the human experience: it doesn't always add up to something reasonable; or if it is considered reasonable, that very assessment must be suspect simply by who is making it.  One amazing example of that was taking someone from Dexter Avenue North just west of Lake Union all the way to Bellevue and back again just to pick up a take out order.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, and yes, he did was the answer.  Forty-five minutes and $89.00 later I had him back at his hotel with his Indian food order.  I could comment further but I will leave it at that, his culinary excursion my biggest fare of the greater taxi weekend.  I will say that, business-wise, this is the slowest summer I have ever seen.  More people and cars that ever before but it hasn't translated into more money into taxi pockets.  Whatever the cause, it is nothing good, that's for sure.

And what happened early Saturday night is past explanation other than pure recklessness because if I hadn't been in the far right corner of SW Thistle Street and 8th Avenue SW, the roaring dump truck would have slid up 1092's hood, killing me instantly. While the situation was simple, the truck driver's actions were anything but, flying up the middle of a residential street and cresting the hill at 30-40 mph, making it nearly impossible to avoid a collision.  That I did attests to my having driven cars since I was 12 and plain, old dumb luck.

As I said in my last posting, I don't want to do this anymore.  This very real question must be posed. Will I get out of this insane business before I am killed?  Stay tuned and hopefully I can respond in the affirmative.