Three Good Hours? Whence Has New Year's Gone?

If the City of Seattle needs more evidence to halt the upcoming taxi medallion lottery, all they have to do is ask me and other drivers how much they made during what normally has been the best night of the year.  Given this is the second down year in a row, the evidence is conclusive: cab driving and making the big money is seriously wounded, and downplaying the damage, or saying nothing has changed, is both foolish and nonsensical. While there was some business prior to midnight, it was spotty, and even after the fireworks and horn honking, many of my taxi buddies provided dismal reports of what they didn't make, making it clear our business model, and expectations, are forever altered.  I appeared to do better than most, rolling $140.00 in 3 hours but then, exhausted, I just went home though I felt there was still money to be made if you had the energy to drive down the road, something I clearly didn't have.

And while many might think my three-hour total impressive, it was only nearing what any cabbie makes on a sustained roll, $50.00 an hour is what I have found to be the taxi ceiling over any multiple hour period. Even long fares to destinations like Yakima or Aberdeen always average out to fifty bucks per hour due to deadheading back to Seattle.  So while averaging forty-seven dollars an hour is good, it doesn't reach the achievable maximum that I have seen even recently, doing much better than on this now so-called legendary money making night.  

Collectively, we in the Seattle taxi industry are in trouble. That fact and reality is inescapable and true despite what the City does or doesn't do concerning medallions.  There will be much crying this winter, and I for one do not want to be part of this disjointed chorus, not interested in singing for burnt offerings.  I'm stupid but I'm not that dumb. Next week I'm going to Iceland to soak my sorrows away.  While only temporary, the relief is welcome, despite recent highs of 25 degrees F. in Reykjavik, I will be warmer than waiting for nothing whatsoever in my cab, Seattle now chilly and foreboding for me and my taxi brethren as we stare out into the declining urban space, wishing for something that isn't there, and won't be coming back soon, if ever . Better to run away because, as we all found out this New Year's Eve, there is, and will be, no hiding.