July 23rd, 2008
When I step into the obese old woman's apartment3 comments
July 16th, 2008
The obese old woman at Fred Meyer has a bad hip and a wheelchair...8 comments
July 9th, 2008
“...I need to take a shower first and wash all of this blood off.”6 comments
July 2nd, 2008
“So I’ve got these two women in the back of my cab who just refuse to get out...”8 comments
June 25th, 2008
“My friend’s getting divorced, and he’s really drunk,” says the bartender...8 comments
June 18th, 2008
There’s nothing like a good Friday night, and I’m referring to the money.3 comments
June 11th, 2008
The old man in the karaoke bar’s parking lot insists that he doesn’t need any help...0 comments
June 4th, 2008
“What’re you up to?” asks my dispatcher.6 comments
May 28th, 2008
The middle-aged guy is working on an oil ship...3 comments
May 21st, 2008
“How you doing tonight, man?”3 comments
[August 31st, 2005] A trip to Vancouver is, needless to say, a welcome fare. It's a perfect sunny weekend, the sort when people grill things, and my passenger is on his way to schmooze people at a co-worker's party. I learn this from the loud conversation he's having on his cell phone. People do this all the time; they think you're so invisible that they'll even start talking about you-"Hey, I've got a chick cab driver, she's kinda hot"-forgetting you're right there listening. Or trying not to listen, I usually turn up the music in the front while killing the rear speakers.
So far, so good, except.... "Do you know where the Olive Garden up here is?" I can't believe it. "Surely you jest." Nope. I put forth the radical notion that knowing this before we hit the freeway might have been a good idea. He starts dialing. Now I'm talking to the Olive Garden.
Once we finally arrive, he goes in to get a huge takeout order, and then we're off to his co-worker's house. Which is a bitch to find, even with his Mapquest printout. By "bitch" I mean "worst address to find, ever, in several years of doing this."
But after all that, I'm handed $100 on a $65 fare, and he wants my number for when he wants to go home: "Since it was so hard to find, I should probably just call you, since you've been here." Hours later, I'm dropping off another fare in Vancouver when he calls. I have no idea of the math to calculate the odds of this, but they're close to nil.








