As I say concerning taxi, I meet everyone in every conceivable situation and scenario, and last night, "serving the bell" in the north-end due to no cabs, with a machine gun-like "rat-a-tat-tat-tat" business flow filling the late hours, I once again picked up Dano (not his real name), a Yellow "regular" going home from a Greenwood-area nursing home. Dano, a slightly developmentally disabled man, has been washing dishes at the same facility six days per week for the past 31 years, Monday's off. Asking him when he will stop, he replied age 67, Dano turning 54 this upcoming August. Imagine this if you can, a life of drudgery encompassing, if he physically survives until 2032, 54 years of soap and suds. cleaning plates and scraping pans. Having washed dishes at an eastern Colorado truck-stop for a month in 1969 when I was 15, I know it to be a living hell, disrespectful devils prodding you on, back then paid $1.00 per hour for the displeasure of cleaning toilets and busing the tables too.
Every work day Dano takes the two-bus one hour-long ride to work, returning home every night at 11 PM in the $18.00 cab ride. After 31 years, he now makes $16.00 per hour, his ride home taking 15 minutes. Multiplying $18.00 by four 15 minute intervals means I am making the equivalent of $72.00 an hour, something I often more-or-less do.
Does "life" hold real meaning and purpose? Find someone like Dano and ask him how he/she understands and accepts his /her lot in living upon our shared earth. Then reflect upon your own life. How does it compare? Are you happy, sad, justifying and accepting what you have, or not?
As for Dano, I can only hope he has secret plans escaping to a better heaven than the kitchen Hades he now resides. If believing in prayer, pray for Dano and a better future minus monotonous steamy, sweat filled hours, God helping Dano and us all the live-long day. Amen!
The Taxi Gods Speaking!
The round-trip "drug run' was normal until the gentleman in question unexpectedly began directing me. Having picked up on the same block a mere hour before, I requested he stop but no, he wouldn't desist, instead aggressively mocking me. Out I sent him, not wanting his money, only a swift departure out the taxi door; and immediately afterwards, clearing the meter, receiving a redemptive $62.00 account fare to Kent. And having to once again go around the same block, placing myself in the correct direction, there the guy was, walking in what can only be described as "his personal rain cloud," a sudden storm drenching this misguided soul. Thank you "taxi Jesus," or something like that!
Adios Squeaky! RIP
Two weeks ago, the taxi lifer famously known for his high-pitched voice, Squeaky, passed on to hopefully better taxi hunting grounds. When I started way back in 1987, Squeaky was driving for Panos Taxi, finding him sitting at the old Pier 52 ferry stand. Having driven for nearly everyone, Squeaky was a well-known local cabbie character. Another taxi lifer, Dennis A., told me about Squeaky's demise while I was having 1092 repaired Friday at Jim & Gill's auto repair shop. Farewell Squeaky, it was good knowing ya! Rest-in-peace!
Postscript 06/10/2019
Amazingly, my first ride this morning was someone who works at the same facility as Dano. She has been there 22 years. All I can do is quote Bob Dylan from his song Caught Up in Blue: "I don't know what they do with their lives!" And that is an understatement.
No comments:
Post a Comment