The Run Around and Uptown.

Last night I went to JFK because I noticed that the city was slowing down.  I normally don’t work Wednesdays so I didn’t have a set plan on how I wanted to get shit done.  I figure the worst case scenario is that I get a short-haul ticket then go home early, best case I get a city trip Midtown or Downtown and I can grab a chicken gyro.

I didn’t mind waiting at the lot for nearly an hour.  I got a chance to catch up on the wild night of baseball that I kept getting information about and to give my car and myself a rest.
(Sidenote- as a Mets fan I could not have been happier with seeing two teams collapse worse than the Mets did, especially with one of them being the Braves.)
So finally around 1230 or so I get my assignment to go to Terminal 7.  I didn’t think much of it because I was there Tuesday night a little later than that and still got a fare.  When it’s that late, the dispatchers normally send us to either 4, 5 or 8 though…sometimes 7 like I got.  Unfortunately for me, they sent one cab too many and I was that unfortunate last cab.  After waiting for about 10-15 minutes, I get sent to Terminal 2 (Delta).  I HATE THAT TERMINAL WITH A PASSION! Plus I’m wondering if maybe a late night flight just arrived or some shit, because this is extremely rare.

Whatever though, I head out there…then I see a rush of cars behind me spearheaded by this dude in a Jets cap tryin everything in his power to overtake me.  Oddly enough, we all got deked by this Indian dude who wrapped around and cut all of us.  It was all for naught though, we get there and that too, was empty.  Even the dispatcher who was there felt bad “What the…seriously?!” and I tell him “Yeah no shit.”  Off to Terminal 4.

I’m gettin frustrated now as I’m bein passed around like hot coochie in a fraternity house.  The Jets cap dude is successful at cutting me off and in retaliation, I cut off the Indian dude who deked me from before.  I have a bad feeling about getting cut because I know he’s gonna get the good trip that I woulda gotten…and I’m gonna get an ass trip, I just know it.  In my head, I figure I’m not gonna get a short-haul, but it’s gonna be an uptown trip.  Wait for it.

I get this Spanish dude who doesn’t speak English all too well, nor does it seem like he has any clue what’s goin on.  My destination: 145th and Amsterdam at 130am.  You’ve gotta be fuckin kiddin me, I WILL get my $45 flat rate fare that I hoped for, just not somewhere where I desire being at.  He gets into my cab and it smells like boogers.  Now, idk if it’s really a booger smell, but it’s that smell you notice from people who hadn’t blown their nose so their snot is crustin on their upper lip n shit.  But it protrudes all over their body.  Alright, so maybe it is boogers.  He asks me if I have change for a $100 which I somehow do.  Then he asks me how much it’s gonna be, I tell him $45 plus the toll so it’s gonna be $50.30 (but really, who’s counting the 30 cents?).  The booger smell is killing me, even with the wind whippin in my face as I’m drivin 65+, there’s no one on the road so who gives a shit.  I seriously considered closing my partition door.  145th is weird because my GPS will tell me to go into the Bronx first, take the 145th Street Bridge and then go across it…but to not make my customers worried, I take the Harlem River Drive to 135th and take that across to St. Nicholas Avenue, take that to 145th and go from there.

“You know I say 145 and Amsterdam not 135.”
I’m not stupid…I know this, I’m getting there.  I really replied “I know.”

I get to 145th and St. Nick and make it up to Amsterdam.  I stop the meter.  He then tells me “No, not Amsterdam” and I reply “What do you mean, that’s what you told me though…145th and Amsterdam.”  He says “My mistake, I meant St. Nicholas, I need C train.”  Well, sucks to be you because the C doesn’t run right now, but mainly out of the frustration of being uptown combined with getting cut off and getting slutted by the dispatchers I wasn’t pleased at any of this.  I book a U-Turn and drop him off at St. Nicholas.

I help get his bag out and he pays me the $100.  I give him back two $20s and two $5s.  “Noooo…come on you told me it was $45.”  Are you fuckin kiddin me dude?  I did tell you $50.  I reply “Yeah I said $45, plus the toll..and that’s $50.  In fact, lemme take your two 5s…”  He replies “No no it’s okay…” I ain’t havin this anymore:

Me- Gimme your two 5s…here’s a $10 instead since you’re not even gonna bother tippin me…and oh you forgot these in the car (he had a backpack and some sort of envelope).
Him- Thank you.
Me- Go fuck yourself.  (speeds off)

I don’t like my time being wasted.  Period.  If you’re not gonna tip me on a regular fare, it sucks and pisses me off too, but not as much as on a $45 fare.  I have no respect for people who do that.  Chalk it up to being frustrated or whatever else, but it’s so bush-league…and playing dumb on top of that?  Nah.

And so on.



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