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
May 14th, 2008
As I pull into the back parking lot of Spot 79 on Southeast Foster Road...13 comments
[February 15th, 2006] "Don't forget your fucking phone!" I had picked these two up at the Scoreboard, which is usually a four-dollar fare. I was pleasantly surprised to get a 20-dollar fare, to Southwest Multnomah. That is, until, the guy starts telling me about the liquor store he wants to go to, off Capitol Highway.
"I've got 20 bucks to pay you with." Folks, the time to bargain (if there ever is, because honestly...eh, I've ranted about this before, you can look it up), the time to bargain is when you get in, not right before you get out.
"Dude, we're at 18 already, I have to get off at Multnomah." He calls me a bitch and tells me where to pull over. He throws the money at me, and it's a buck short. "You have a nice night, too," I say. "I'm sure you will," he yells. Nope, too late now.
He finally gets his drunk ass and the ass of his equally drunk girlfriend out, and as I check the seat, I notice her cell phone. I lock the doors, roll down a window, and toss it out after them. He's pissed; he starts pulling on the doors and saying he's got my cab number. I'm sooo scared.
They're lucky I didn't just wait for daytime minutes to start, use her phone to call the time and leave it somewhere like that. Christ, some people. All things considered, I'd have preferred the four-dollar fare.
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Don't forget your fucking phone!
Unlike the prievous [sic] Li'l yellow fellow I can completely sympathize with your frustration (and I'm not going to plug my poorly built website either), being employed in a service positiion myself.
I always find it ironic that the individuals that demand perfect customer service are the ones who seem to deserve it the least.
So to all out there, remember: "Customer Service" does not mean "Free Lunch".
—Ok then...
Don't forget your fucking phone!
A long while back I had to have two jobs to make ends meet. I got a job delivering food from various popular restaurant chains in an 8 mile radius. Didn't put that many miles on the Mazda and made about $45 to $55 in tips on about $5 worth of gasoline between 5:30 and 11:00pm. (Things have changed, obviously.)
What used to hack me off were the folks who demanded that I stop in mid-delivery of their food to them and buy them some cigarettes, too. I was going that way anyway, right? They'd pay for the cigs and the food when I got there.
I don't smoke and it really bothered me but my kid needed his expensive diabetes medicines, so what are you going to do?
Marlboro Lights is what everyone who ordered take-out food seemed to smoke, by the way.
—Lippy









Don't forget your fucking phone!
Maybe you should work for yourself doing something less, um, stressful. I own Li'l Yellow Bug Mobile Notary Services www.lilyellowbug.com and all I have are happy stories. I think the only thing about what I do is that there are many many lonely housewives and divorcees out there, but they are sooo nice when I show up. But that's boring as all hell to readers. Nobody wants to hear about some notary public making people happy and making a decent living to boot. Snooorrrrrrrrreeee.......
Can you imagine a more boring column to read "Mobile Notary - The True Dirt"
Nahhhhh, effing boooorrrrrrring.
—Li'l yellow fellow