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The Put Out

February 1st, 2010

1/15/10 Fri. 124.9 miles
1/16/10 Sat. 90.4 miles

Word is that David is doing better. He’s been back at home and doing fine. It’ll be a couple of weeks before he will be managing his cabs or dispatching.

I had a monster weekend despite my car shorting out every so often. I couldn’t afford to miss out on this HUGE weekend. I expected Friday night to be dead because the Saints were playing their first playoff game on Saturday. Boy was I wrong. I guess everyone was pre-gaming because it ended up being one of my best Fridays in a loonng while.

I got out early Friday and was kicking ass straight through until around midnight. I was stuck in a Frat loop and I couldn’t get out of the college area. I picked up a girl at the Boot a wretched college bar on Broadway who was completely bombed and wanted to go home… in Metairie. She was the typical stuck up little bitch. She complained the entire way about how expensive the cab ride was. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind and explain a few things about life to her but I decided to play the ‘nice guy’ and I took $2 off the fare.

Who Dat

I waited until after the game to work on Saturday. Thankfully the Saints routed the Cardinals and the city was buzzing. It was busy and everyone was happy.

I had a string of connecting fares that brought me to a hotel on Convention Center Blvd. The door man of the hotel stuck his head in my passenger door.
“I got fare for ya if you wanna wait,” he said.
“Of course,” I replied.

A young latino guy hopped in the backseat and asked to be taken to the Westbank, deep Westbank.
“Thanks man. I hopped in a cab about 2 blocks back and the guy kicked me out because he didn’t want to take me,” he stated.
“You mean to the Westbank?” I asked.
“Wow. See, that pisses me off.” I replied.
“It’s kinda fucked up but it happens all the time. I just want to get home, man. I’ve been working all day and I want to see my kid.” He said.
“I don’t blame you bro.”
“I guess maybe because I’m latino he was worried.”
“Well, It’s possible. But he probably just wanted to stay in the city because it’s so busy out.” I told him.
“Yeah, but some guys get all freaked out about driving to the Westbank. They think I‘m going to rob them or something,” he stated.
“Eh, you can never know what people are thinking.” I replied.
“Yeah, you know, I’ve been robbed by two different cab drivers going home.”
“No way, really?”
“Yeah, one guy drove me out to the middle of nowhere and pulled out a gun on me.” He said.

I was shocked. He said both of them were shady right from the get go. They didn’t turn the meter on and both demanded he pay up front, much more than the regular fare. I couldn’t believe it but I’ve heard so many horror stories from people.

Really those horror stories are the reason why my company gets so much business. Everyone knows that the drivers of my company are typically more honest than others. Plus, we can be tracked down and held accountable for anything that happens. I can’t tell you how many times people tell me that my company is the only one they’ll ride with in this city.

Around 2:00 AM I was on my way home when I got flagged down in front of a restaurant at Magazine & Washington. A guy opened the passenger door and handed me twenty bucks.
“Take this. I got a girl inside who needs a ride home.”
A few minutes later the guy escorted a young blonde to the car. They talked for a few seconds and she got in the backseat.
“Where am I taking you?” I asked.
She was completely silent and staring out the window watching the guy walk back into the restaurant.
I sighed.
When the guy got inside the building his friend shook his hand and they shared a laugh.
“Sweetheart, where are we going?” I asked.
“Can you just wait a second,” she snapped.
I turned the meter on, and sighed again.
“This is stupid,” she said breaking me out of a daydream.
“What? What is?” I asked.
“Can you wait her for a minute?” She asked me.
She got out of the car and walked back up to the restaurant and knocked on the door. The guy came back and they talked for a few minutes and he walked her back to my cab. He opened the door but she didn’t get in.
“So you want me to leave,” she asked him.
“Listen, it was very nice to meet you. I had fun talking with you the last 2 hours but I have to go. We have to close up the restaurant,” he told her.
“So this is it then. I’m just going to leave?” She asked him.
“Take this cab and I’ll see you again sometime, I’m sure.”
He walked away and she reluctantly climbed back in to the cab.

“OK, where are we going?” I asked her.
“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” She asked.
“I’m a cabbie.” I responded.
“You’re not a cab driver,” she replied.
[this happens a lot with incredibly drunk girls, I guess they can‘t accept that a young white guy would want to drive a cab]
“Sweetheart, look around. See this,” I pointed to my meter. “It’s a meter. If you haven’t noticed I have a big light on my car that says Taxi.”
[I’m usually not like this with people but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her anymore]
“OK, just wait another minute. OK?” she asked.
“Lady, I tell you what. That guy gave me twenty bucks. I’ll wait her until that twenty dollars runs out on the meter then I’m leaving. So you should probably figure out what you want to do.”
“Just wait! I’ll give you $50. Wait, he gave you money?”
She started to cry.
“Yeah, he flagged me down and said to drive you wherever you wanted to go,” I replied.
“This is weird,” she said.
“What’s so…”
“This is creepy,” she said.
“Wait. What did you say?” I asked.
She was silent.

When I heard her say that “this was creepy” I decided I had had enough. I got out of the car and went up to the restaurant and knocked on the window until the guy came back out.
“Listen, I don’t know what her deal is but I don’t want to deal with her anymore. Here’s your twenty bucks back.” I handed him his money.

It’s the first time I’ve ever put somebody out of my cab and I’m absolutely positive it was the right thing to do. That girl spelled trouble in every which way. I felt bad for the guy, I mean, he was probably happy to finally get her out of his hair. But I knew that ride would be a disaster and I just wanted to go home.


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