Coming back from Lake Kelema and Steamboat Rock and Northrup Canyon Nature Preserve I was unfortunately greeted this weekend by post-full moon madness in all its demented and shining glory. It would have been preferable not switching taxis four times over or receiving my first moving violation in nearly four years. Since all this trauma was clearly avoidable, it was the lamentable influence of the moon making it optional, too many choosing confusion and mayhem over quieter and saner approaches. One understands after their initial introduction that taxi is innately chaotic for all the sorry reasons known too well to us veterans of the craft. But it is also apparent that too many others disproportionately embrace behavior better left to infants crying over clabbered milk. Just because its served doesn't mean you must quaff it down like Heavenly Nectar delivered by the Gods. As is all too obvious, be careful whom you pray to, malevolent and mischievous spirits mutely waiting in the celestial ether seeking the gullible and unbalanced, all too happy anointing all unaware takers with disorienting spells.. Sanity remains rare.
Not knowing that 478 was locked in the shop, I wasted 20 minutes before comprehending the real situation. Why didn't anyone tell me the cab was down for days due to computer issues? Poor communication continues to plague Yellow. A simple email would have notified me but no, that's too simple and basic. Making it worse is, when later in the day, calling and asking whether 478 was ready to go, I arrived only to find out it wasn't true. Making it all the more serious, when finally taking the cab out I discovered too late that the computer issues were not resolved as told, necessitating yet another transfer at 4:00 AM. I parked 478 with the expectation that it would be repaired later in the day, giving the shop all morning to make it right.
Later Sunday afternoon Larry, a lead mechanic told me, "I don't work on computers!" fating me for yet another transfer to a different cab. If it had been repaired properly in the first place I would not been put through the laborious task of shifting all my taxi gear multiple times plus gassing up the tank and driving how many miles back to the lot. Each minute taken is yet another lost opportunity to make money, taxi seconds precious, not something to be squandered.
Crowning the "Mad Hatter-ness" of the weekend was receiving a ticket for responding to the call for cabs needed down at the Amtrak station. Located adjacent to the Seahawk Stadium, I know well the procedures dealing with all of the police posted for traffic duty during a game day. Allowing us in is usually perfunctory, SPD knowing Yellow Cab holds exclusive rights to picking up there.
Not seeing anyone barring the gates I assumed I could proceed forward. Wrong! as a cop flew at me in an unmarked car, acting like I was attacking the White House! Angrily rushing out of his car, the officer was completely beyond rational conversation. Explaining I was simply heading in to pick up waiting passengers had no influence upon his behavior or demeanor. He appeared to enjoy punishing me, the "bad" cabbie trying to pick up customers. Half an hour later they were still asking for 40 cabs, meaning there were a good hundred or so passengers standing there in line wondering why they weren't getting a taxi. I am sure many blamed us for the unusually long wait. How could they know that instead it was a failure perpetuated by the City of Seattle, poor planning cementing their fate. I hope no one was attempting to make a flight.
Capping it off, while writing me out a ticket, an Uber-X "Black Car" was allowed in, making the entire experience surreal. I will be sending a copy of the ticket to Seattle's new police chief. I believe she will find my description interesting. It might be time to de-criminalize taxi driving. I can only hope she agrees. If anyone is still wondering why the Federal Justice Department intervened into SPD operations, you should only drive taxi for a few minutes, and soon, at your own peril, you will quickly understand all too well, the reasons why no longer mysterious. You will know beyond all reasonable doubt.
A Comment Answered
A reader wondered why I haven't been reporting the upheaval, pain and turmoil connected with PSD/BYG's disjointed introduction to their new computer dispatch system, perhaps implying my silence is intentional. Understanding that people want to know I will say that I have been working behind the scenes seeking remedies to real and serous issues. Like everyone else, I have not remained immune to the less than pretty debut. I have made my opinion known. Tomorrow I am meeting with someone who, together with me, is interested and vested in finding permanent solutions. The true cause is cultural, taxi-culture too often myopic, not able to see beyond its own nose. Many times I have attempted to be the local taxi optician. I have written prescriptions. It is unfortunate they haven't been filled. I agree fully. The situation needs to change quickly. There is no other option. The problems could have not arrived at a more dire juncture. With autumn's arrival, business is slowing. The Alaska cruise season is over. Drivers are suffering, unable to pay their leases. I agree. Improvement is needed. I will keep you informed on any and all progress. I know it is hard staying patient when after working your butt off you have nothing to show for it. It is not a good story. I am making an attempt to rewrite it.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
Nearly Three Months Later, Enforcement Remains Non-Existent
It was in mid-July when the Seattle mayor signed the bill altering the local taxi regulatory landscape forever. Much was spoken at the time of the cooperative nature of the negotiations helping shape the final version. While I for one understood the new bill replacing the council's version was a complete disaster for us, there were others who said it was the best we could expect considering the political climate. Well, at least upon an initial assessment it appears we got nothing at all in return, blotto! zilch! zero! unless you think getting the privilege of wearing your pajamas to work is a fair trade in return for allowing unlimited and unfettered competition into your previously protected operational sphere while remaining capped and stifled and completely beholden to people who hate and disrespect you.
Last night it took calling 911 to convince the Uber driver sitting on the Deca Hotel taxi stand that he had to leave. I told him I would call Craig Leisy and he said go ahead, call Leisy because he knows as well as I do that the City of Seattle is not serous about enforcing anything concerning the taxis. It couldn't be clearer. Where is even one of the promised ten taxi stands even though there have been four, count them, four home University of Washington Husky football home game in a row, with no effort made to accommodate the long-suffering taxis attempting to serve up to 73,000 thousand fans? All we have in the taxi industry are broken and diverted promises leading to nothing whatsoever. None of this will ever be acceptable.
Yes, the mayor's deal is laughable and we undoubtedly have gotten shafted. And what about the verifiable rumor that up to fifty taxis operated for over two weeks from mid-November to just 3 days ago minus real insurance though Seattle regulators had been notified of the situation from the very beginning? What is going on here? Hell! it is obvious what is happening. Tomorrow I am going back up into the Cascades and then into the Eastern Washington high desert country. Good time to stare at the full moon and consider sanity minus deranged taxi! Com' on black bear, com' on friend coyote, shake my hand, I''ll take your paw!
Last night it took calling 911 to convince the Uber driver sitting on the Deca Hotel taxi stand that he had to leave. I told him I would call Craig Leisy and he said go ahead, call Leisy because he knows as well as I do that the City of Seattle is not serous about enforcing anything concerning the taxis. It couldn't be clearer. Where is even one of the promised ten taxi stands even though there have been four, count them, four home University of Washington Husky football home game in a row, with no effort made to accommodate the long-suffering taxis attempting to serve up to 73,000 thousand fans? All we have in the taxi industry are broken and diverted promises leading to nothing whatsoever. None of this will ever be acceptable.
Yes, the mayor's deal is laughable and we undoubtedly have gotten shafted. And what about the verifiable rumor that up to fifty taxis operated for over two weeks from mid-November to just 3 days ago minus real insurance though Seattle regulators had been notified of the situation from the very beginning? What is going on here? Hell! it is obvious what is happening. Tomorrow I am going back up into the Cascades and then into the Eastern Washington high desert country. Good time to stare at the full moon and consider sanity minus deranged taxi! Com' on black bear, com' on friend coyote, shake my hand, I''ll take your paw!
Monday, September 29, 2014
Excerpt From A Magazine: "Small" Government Emulating Its Bigger SIbling
By now everyone in the local taxi industry knows how much power and sway Seattle and King County elected authorities hold over them, a few votes having turned our operational world upside down. We also found that even though Mayor Murray and the Seattle City Council identify themselves as liberal and progressive, with Sawant calling herself a Socialist, it didn't stop them, save one brave soul, Mike O'Brien, from rubber stamping and validating the illegal incursion by Uber, Lyft and Sidecar into our protected, regulated (and fee-driven) industry. Were their actions any different than might have been taken by those ultimate Conservative Boogie men, the Koch brothers? I doubt it.
There are unfortunate parallels which says to me that power corrupts regardless of professed ideology. One of the Koch brothers famously donates hundreds of millions of dollars to the arts and also cancer research. Does this now somehow make him an instant champion of so-called progressive causes? Of course it doesn't, the profound irony being the immense profits generated by the Koch's potential cancer-source based industries and interests.
I mention all this as the lead-in to an excerpt taken from the September 19th, 2014 issue (volume 14, issue 686) of "The Week, The Best of the US & International Media," which in turn had excerpted quotes from Jonathan Chait's 09/07/2014 New York Magazine's column entitled "Why the Worst Governments in America are Local Governments." All of us who have been screwed by those wonderful, bleeding-heart individuals occupying City Hall and the council chambers should take note. This article was featured on page 14 in the section called "Best Columns: The U.S."
"Among conservatives, there is an "almost axiomatic belief" that "government closest to the people governs best," said Jonathan Chait. But in reality, local and state governments abuse their power far more than does Washington, D.C. Take the city government of Ferguson, Missouri, "an Orwellian monstrosity" in which predominantly white politicians rule over a predominantly black population, using a militarized police, warrants, traffic stops, and court fines to dominate the population and siphon away its cash. Throughout the country, it's towns, cities, and states that have the most intrusive regulations: In New York, San Francisco, and Washington, for example, liberal politicians refuse to authorize cheaper new rental housing that the market demands, thus driving low-income workers away. The same government demand that hair cutters, interior decorators, and taxi drivers obtain a license to work---protecting incumbent businesses and driving up costs. Why does Big Small Government get away with all of this? Most citizens pay little attention, re-electing incumbents on party-line votes. Neither liberals nor conservatives generally understand that "the government that actually oppresses us is that which is closest to us."
Has a truer statement ever been made, especially in light of what occurred and continues to happen to us in the local taxi industry? Where is the promised enforcement? Again this weekend, no where to be seen. To me the local administrative attitude is "why care when you don't have to?" Remember that when voting this November for your local favorite Populist, he or she may not really be who they seem to be at first glance or otherwise claim as they shout Liberty and Freedom from lofty towers. Do we really need more Sally Bagshaws? I think not! Google " Jonathan Chait" and read his work in the achives of his "Daily Intelligencer" column.
There are unfortunate parallels which says to me that power corrupts regardless of professed ideology. One of the Koch brothers famously donates hundreds of millions of dollars to the arts and also cancer research. Does this now somehow make him an instant champion of so-called progressive causes? Of course it doesn't, the profound irony being the immense profits generated by the Koch's potential cancer-source based industries and interests.
I mention all this as the lead-in to an excerpt taken from the September 19th, 2014 issue (volume 14, issue 686) of "The Week, The Best of the US & International Media," which in turn had excerpted quotes from Jonathan Chait's 09/07/2014 New York Magazine's column entitled "Why the Worst Governments in America are Local Governments." All of us who have been screwed by those wonderful, bleeding-heart individuals occupying City Hall and the council chambers should take note. This article was featured on page 14 in the section called "Best Columns: The U.S."
"Among conservatives, there is an "almost axiomatic belief" that "government closest to the people governs best," said Jonathan Chait. But in reality, local and state governments abuse their power far more than does Washington, D.C. Take the city government of Ferguson, Missouri, "an Orwellian monstrosity" in which predominantly white politicians rule over a predominantly black population, using a militarized police, warrants, traffic stops, and court fines to dominate the population and siphon away its cash. Throughout the country, it's towns, cities, and states that have the most intrusive regulations: In New York, San Francisco, and Washington, for example, liberal politicians refuse to authorize cheaper new rental housing that the market demands, thus driving low-income workers away. The same government demand that hair cutters, interior decorators, and taxi drivers obtain a license to work---protecting incumbent businesses and driving up costs. Why does Big Small Government get away with all of this? Most citizens pay little attention, re-electing incumbents on party-line votes. Neither liberals nor conservatives generally understand that "the government that actually oppresses us is that which is closest to us."
Has a truer statement ever been made, especially in light of what occurred and continues to happen to us in the local taxi industry? Where is the promised enforcement? Again this weekend, no where to be seen. To me the local administrative attitude is "why care when you don't have to?" Remember that when voting this November for your local favorite Populist, he or she may not really be who they seem to be at first glance or otherwise claim as they shout Liberty and Freedom from lofty towers. Do we really need more Sally Bagshaws? I think not! Google " Jonathan Chait" and read his work in the achives of his "Daily Intelligencer" column.
A New Day At Yellow (BYG/PSD) Cab: A Dispatch Manager Is Replaced
Arriving at the Yellow lot early Friday afternoon I came upon a great tumult, a swelling of both owners and drivers having descended upon the office seeking answers, wanting to know why the new system wasn't working. The numbers gathered were to the point that the meeting door had to be locked and new comers effectively barred. Probably the best and only way to get a cabbie's full attention is to take money out of his or her pocket.
All this resulted in something very surprising, especially for those of us long accustomed to the usual inaction and delay. Sometime later that same Friday afternoon Jim O'Malley, the longstanding Dispatch General Manager, was dismissed. I have yet to hear official explanations but it is clear someone had to "fall upon the sword" and Jim took the full brunt of everyone's angry and disappointed eruptions.
And soon thereafter, Tom, a long-time dispatch veteran and currently in charge of the HopeLink accounts, was named as Jim's replacement. I know Tom fairly well and I respect his ability to get things done. For years he shared the same office with my late friend, Frank Morgan. I am looking forward to talking to him about immediate dispatch changes and adjustments. The opportunity for expansive new development appears to have unexpectedly arrived.
As soon as I know more I will fill everyone in. As the news spreads, the shock and amazement continues to grow. Whatever one personally felt concerning Jim, no one could argue that he wasn't faithful, having led dispatch for the past 15 plus years or more. Its too bad his long tenure went down in flames. One thing is sure about taxi, no escapes being "roasted" some time or the other. It is always just a matter of when, that's all, in that sense all of us sharing the same fate and legacy.
All this resulted in something very surprising, especially for those of us long accustomed to the usual inaction and delay. Sometime later that same Friday afternoon Jim O'Malley, the longstanding Dispatch General Manager, was dismissed. I have yet to hear official explanations but it is clear someone had to "fall upon the sword" and Jim took the full brunt of everyone's angry and disappointed eruptions.
And soon thereafter, Tom, a long-time dispatch veteran and currently in charge of the HopeLink accounts, was named as Jim's replacement. I know Tom fairly well and I respect his ability to get things done. For years he shared the same office with my late friend, Frank Morgan. I am looking forward to talking to him about immediate dispatch changes and adjustments. The opportunity for expansive new development appears to have unexpectedly arrived.
As soon as I know more I will fill everyone in. As the news spreads, the shock and amazement continues to grow. Whatever one personally felt concerning Jim, no one could argue that he wasn't faithful, having led dispatch for the past 15 plus years or more. Its too bad his long tenure went down in flames. One thing is sure about taxi, no escapes being "roasted" some time or the other. It is always just a matter of when, that's all, in that sense all of us sharing the same fate and legacy.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Anarchy In General And Taxi In Particular
Taxi's foundation is shifting sand minus grounding and meaningful security, quickly translating into a permanent transient state whose capitol and governing assembly is a rancid bureaucracy promoting perpetual bedlam as functional reality, thus making it nearly impossible to feel both coherent and intact, and can it be suggested, sane and happy in what is essentially a chimerical and phantasmagorical and endlessly reckless environment. That of course is a long-winded way of saying this was one crazy weekend. Yellow introduced its new computer dispatch operating system with at times disastrous results, thinking that the usual "learning on the fly" would again suffice. That everyone including myself were mystified confirms there had to be a better way.
Finally, after four hours of stress and pain someone was able to tell me how to minimally operate the damn thing. After that it was fairly easy deciphering what once was imponderable. The only problem were the lost hours setting me back, making it all the harder to reach my usual and expected weekly financial goals. A last fare early this morning from Northwest Hospital to a Des Moines address south of the airport took whatever energy I had left.
Adding to the weight this weekend was the putting upon me of complete responsibility for last Sunday's second flat tire, someone thinking I had somehow been irresponsible, allowing the tire and rim to be permanently damaged. This after Yellow's self-created dilemma affected thousands this weekend. Excuse me if my taste remains bitter.
Now it has been said that the lesson concerning our new system has been learned and a greater effort will be put forward but unfortunately the harm, however long or short or enduring, has been done. Whether all of what transpired this weekend will ultimately lead to a greater understanding I don't know but I doubt if anyone remains interested in repeating what happened. The lead mechanic said to me this afternoon that we are a team which I wholeheartedly agree, allowing me to ask again why can't we have spare tires available after the shop is closed? It certainly would make everything easier. That would be wonderful, making the sometimes intolerable easier to swallow. That would be nice, all taxi sugar and spice and sweetened rice reducing the roar of the squealing experimental laboratory mice!
Finally, after four hours of stress and pain someone was able to tell me how to minimally operate the damn thing. After that it was fairly easy deciphering what once was imponderable. The only problem were the lost hours setting me back, making it all the harder to reach my usual and expected weekly financial goals. A last fare early this morning from Northwest Hospital to a Des Moines address south of the airport took whatever energy I had left.
Adding to the weight this weekend was the putting upon me of complete responsibility for last Sunday's second flat tire, someone thinking I had somehow been irresponsible, allowing the tire and rim to be permanently damaged. This after Yellow's self-created dilemma affected thousands this weekend. Excuse me if my taste remains bitter.
Now it has been said that the lesson concerning our new system has been learned and a greater effort will be put forward but unfortunately the harm, however long or short or enduring, has been done. Whether all of what transpired this weekend will ultimately lead to a greater understanding I don't know but I doubt if anyone remains interested in repeating what happened. The lead mechanic said to me this afternoon that we are a team which I wholeheartedly agree, allowing me to ask again why can't we have spare tires available after the shop is closed? It certainly would make everything easier. That would be wonderful, making the sometimes intolerable easier to swallow. That would be nice, all taxi sugar and spice and sweetened rice reducing the roar of the squealing experimental laboratory mice!
Monday, September 15, 2014
The Most Depressing Ride On Planet Earth & Other Deflated Tidbits From A Broken Weekend
While it might be my imagination, some weekends it feels like some mysterious negative force field has overtaken Seattle and perhaps the entire planet, making life difficult and miserable for all human occupants. Certainly I had my share of good fortune and success this past Saturday and Sunday but equally I had some of my worse moments in a span stretching from 1987 to now. Taxi, from my long experience has always been contradictory, the good and bad and the deranged consecutively saying hello, these extremes behavioral "kissing cousins" but unlike the Elvis Presley song everything was not "all right, all right!"
Last night I had---and I still can't believe it---two flat tires, the second, occurring at 11:00 PM meaning I had to transfer my passenger with the broken knee to another taxi while waiting nearly 1 1/2 hours for the tow truck. Earlier I called the shop to get another spare tire but they were already gone for the day. For years I have pleaded for spare tires to be made available after 5:00 PM. Aren't we a 24 hour a day operation? You know the answer and so do I but the situation appears to be beyond all remedy. For whatever mysterious reason, all of us appear fated to play tire roulette. Talking to my friend who runs the Yellow co-op he suggested that since there were cars sitting on last night's extra board I could have exchanged cabs which of course was true. I also could have grabbed a tire from one of those same cabs. I just didn't think of those obvious remedies, the madness getting the best of me. But when I asked what do we do when there are no taxis available, my friend just smiled. "Taxi" God! I just give up!
One interesting coincidence was the guy I was taking home from University Hospital to Magnolia when the second flat deflated the day. He was my friend Jack's neighbor, the driver you might recall who was killed in a taxi accident two years ago. Unable to locate Jack's family, the police contacted the neighbor, and with the help of the manager, located Jack's address book. It was that kind of weekend, filled with the amazing and the inexplicable and the exasperating. I am just glad I survived.
One group of passengers became enraged Saturday after a vehicle pulled along side us, with some dumb cluck of a young woman asking when I had last washed my hair. They couldn't believe her audacity. My response, that "only my hairdresser knows for sure!" totally mystified the idiot, too young to remember the "Chairol" commercial advertising home hair coloring kits. Lately there has been something in the news about smelly cabbies in San Diego which might have prompted the comment. Who knows and who cares, more madness emanating from the ersatz culture embracing modern 21st Century America.
But I have to say, the simple ride that wasn't and forever encapsulating this weekend originated on Beacon Hill, stopping in front of a young couple standing outside of a yard next to all of their worldly processions. The woman was pregnant and the husband/ boyfriend said they were heading to a Motel Six. Loading up the cab I was told instead to go to a gas station near S. Othello and Rainier Avenue S. Once there I was taken aback by all of the young men converging upon the station. Told we had gone all this way for a pack of cigarettes, the man returned only to direct me back to nearly where we had begun, all the while quietly conversing with his weary and bewildered wife/girlfriend. Stopping on another Beacon Hill street, we again unloaded all of the stuff onto a sidewalk. I hated this ride, disliking the random sorrow and sheer despondency of their situation. What in the world was going on? I have no idea but nothing good it seems from the looks of it. Shall we all celebrate life and existence? Hurrah! Hurrah!
Watch Out 4 the Baseball
A Idaho family's baseball vacation was ruined when their daughter of about ten was struck in the eye by an errant baseball. What made this notable was our wandering around the Westin Hotel lobby looking first for the husband, then her 14 year old daughter who held payment for the cab. I swear the teenager thought I was going to kill her mother, never getting such a look. Maybe I should have washed my hair!
RIP Bob Miller!
Recently I found out that a fixture at Yellow, driver and Safety Board member Bob Miller, died last month while driving his cab. Feeling faint, he stopped at a White Center-area grocery and sitting on a bench, had a fatal heart attack. Everybody respected Bob for his straight-forward approach to taxi discipline. He will be missed!
Opening the Trunk
This early morning, post-shift, a new driver motioned to me to help him. Opening my window, he told me he couldn't open his cab's trunk. The key wasn't working, so I told him to start his car and push the "popper" button. Not knowing what that was, he began randomly pushing anything and everything on the dashboard. Reaching over his shoulder, I pushed the correct button. I watched as his taxi lurched away, the young man clearly not in control of his vehicle. "Taxi" Lord help us all!
Last night I had---and I still can't believe it---two flat tires, the second, occurring at 11:00 PM meaning I had to transfer my passenger with the broken knee to another taxi while waiting nearly 1 1/2 hours for the tow truck. Earlier I called the shop to get another spare tire but they were already gone for the day. For years I have pleaded for spare tires to be made available after 5:00 PM. Aren't we a 24 hour a day operation? You know the answer and so do I but the situation appears to be beyond all remedy. For whatever mysterious reason, all of us appear fated to play tire roulette. Talking to my friend who runs the Yellow co-op he suggested that since there were cars sitting on last night's extra board I could have exchanged cabs which of course was true. I also could have grabbed a tire from one of those same cabs. I just didn't think of those obvious remedies, the madness getting the best of me. But when I asked what do we do when there are no taxis available, my friend just smiled. "Taxi" God! I just give up!
One interesting coincidence was the guy I was taking home from University Hospital to Magnolia when the second flat deflated the day. He was my friend Jack's neighbor, the driver you might recall who was killed in a taxi accident two years ago. Unable to locate Jack's family, the police contacted the neighbor, and with the help of the manager, located Jack's address book. It was that kind of weekend, filled with the amazing and the inexplicable and the exasperating. I am just glad I survived.
One group of passengers became enraged Saturday after a vehicle pulled along side us, with some dumb cluck of a young woman asking when I had last washed my hair. They couldn't believe her audacity. My response, that "only my hairdresser knows for sure!" totally mystified the idiot, too young to remember the "Chairol" commercial advertising home hair coloring kits. Lately there has been something in the news about smelly cabbies in San Diego which might have prompted the comment. Who knows and who cares, more madness emanating from the ersatz culture embracing modern 21st Century America.
But I have to say, the simple ride that wasn't and forever encapsulating this weekend originated on Beacon Hill, stopping in front of a young couple standing outside of a yard next to all of their worldly processions. The woman was pregnant and the husband/ boyfriend said they were heading to a Motel Six. Loading up the cab I was told instead to go to a gas station near S. Othello and Rainier Avenue S. Once there I was taken aback by all of the young men converging upon the station. Told we had gone all this way for a pack of cigarettes, the man returned only to direct me back to nearly where we had begun, all the while quietly conversing with his weary and bewildered wife/girlfriend. Stopping on another Beacon Hill street, we again unloaded all of the stuff onto a sidewalk. I hated this ride, disliking the random sorrow and sheer despondency of their situation. What in the world was going on? I have no idea but nothing good it seems from the looks of it. Shall we all celebrate life and existence? Hurrah! Hurrah!
Watch Out 4 the Baseball
A Idaho family's baseball vacation was ruined when their daughter of about ten was struck in the eye by an errant baseball. What made this notable was our wandering around the Westin Hotel lobby looking first for the husband, then her 14 year old daughter who held payment for the cab. I swear the teenager thought I was going to kill her mother, never getting such a look. Maybe I should have washed my hair!
RIP Bob Miller!
Recently I found out that a fixture at Yellow, driver and Safety Board member Bob Miller, died last month while driving his cab. Feeling faint, he stopped at a White Center-area grocery and sitting on a bench, had a fatal heart attack. Everybody respected Bob for his straight-forward approach to taxi discipline. He will be missed!
Opening the Trunk
This early morning, post-shift, a new driver motioned to me to help him. Opening my window, he told me he couldn't open his cab's trunk. The key wasn't working, so I told him to start his car and push the "popper" button. Not knowing what that was, he began randomly pushing anything and everything on the dashboard. Reaching over his shoulder, I pushed the correct button. I watched as his taxi lurched away, the young man clearly not in control of his vehicle. "Taxi" Lord help us all!
Monday, September 8, 2014
Dancing For Seven Dollars
There are certain "bells" I would rather avoid beyond all others. The Tug Tavern in West Seattle is certainly one of them, more than once delivering me an incoherent and/or belligerent drunk. Saturday night the wonderful Tug gave me a passenger fitting both categories. J______, a short, very muscular man who wasn't going very far, just up the hill onto 18th Avenue Southwest. His communication consisted of drunken gruff "Turn here!" and a mono-syllabic "Go!", J_____ falling into the completely "addled by alcohol" category, stumbling and stupid.
Now this fare would have been just another blip upon the taxi radar screen except for one important reason: refusing to pay his $7.00 fare. J______clearly has a history of using his size to intimidate and pressure people. While his arms may be as wide as my legs, it made no impression upon me other than this guy is just another garden-variety fool and whatever he thinks is appropriate is completely erroneous because I am just not interested in this kind of behavior. You think you are tough? Wrong! I am tougher than you but please dont' make me prove it. Knowing it isn't that hard to cold-cock a drunk, I knew I would have been faced with rolling the fat lug off of the roadway, not deserving to become "road-kill" despite his reprehensible behavior.
Thinking he would just saunter over to his house unimpeded J_____ instead found an immovable force blocking his route. Moving one direction I stepped in front of him. With J_____ taking another step I closed my distance. Suddenly comprehending I wouldn't be dissuaded he pulled out a handful of crumpled one dollar bills and counted out three dollars. "Keep going!" I demanded when he stopped, pulling out what he thought were only two more dollars. Feeling appeased I then let him proceed forward, smiling when I found the idiot had actually given me my seven dollars. I called the Tug to complain but they are impossible, too busy over serving their raucous crew, providing their alcoholic faithful with what they want but don't need: too much booze on a near full moon Saturday evening! As for me I enjoyed the waltz, one-two-three, one-two-three, step left, step right, com' on! grab your partner, and fight!
Now this fare would have been just another blip upon the taxi radar screen except for one important reason: refusing to pay his $7.00 fare. J______clearly has a history of using his size to intimidate and pressure people. While his arms may be as wide as my legs, it made no impression upon me other than this guy is just another garden-variety fool and whatever he thinks is appropriate is completely erroneous because I am just not interested in this kind of behavior. You think you are tough? Wrong! I am tougher than you but please dont' make me prove it. Knowing it isn't that hard to cold-cock a drunk, I knew I would have been faced with rolling the fat lug off of the roadway, not deserving to become "road-kill" despite his reprehensible behavior.
Thinking he would just saunter over to his house unimpeded J_____ instead found an immovable force blocking his route. Moving one direction I stepped in front of him. With J_____ taking another step I closed my distance. Suddenly comprehending I wouldn't be dissuaded he pulled out a handful of crumpled one dollar bills and counted out three dollars. "Keep going!" I demanded when he stopped, pulling out what he thought were only two more dollars. Feeling appeased I then let him proceed forward, smiling when I found the idiot had actually given me my seven dollars. I called the Tug to complain but they are impossible, too busy over serving their raucous crew, providing their alcoholic faithful with what they want but don't need: too much booze on a near full moon Saturday evening! As for me I enjoyed the waltz, one-two-three, one-two-three, step left, step right, com' on! grab your partner, and fight!
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