19
Jan
12

Paintjob.

I’d like to think of myself as the best in the world at what I do.  Or at the very least, one of the best.  However even the best make some foolish mistakes out there on the road and this was no exception to that.

Saturday night I found myself heading down 2nd avenue when I pick up these two loud as fuck chicks.  It reeked of bridge & tunnelism.  It did NOT help that the radio at the time was playing Niggas in Paris which meant they were about to go nuts in the car.  The best way I can describe them to you is imagine the Rebecca Black Friday video.  One of them is trying to have a “conversation” with me or whatever she’s trying to imitate it as, and she mentions that I’m the best for picking them up.  After saying hey, I’m the best in the world at what I do, she literally goes on her phone to look up who the best cabbie in the world is.

You cannot make stupidity like this up.

Anyway, she wants to sit up front with me (presumably to annoy the fuck out of me and to play DJ in my car) but I told her she cannot get out until I’m at a red light.  She’s fighting with her friend to get out from her friend’s side to sit up front.  You DO know there are two doors in the back right?  Not just one.  So because of that they both get out for a split second and since there were other people waiting for the cab, they SCRAMBLE towards my direction.

So now with this annoying ass broad in the front seat and the radio playing Aubrey Graham & Lil Wayne, she blasts it to about a level 20 in the car (I usually have it at around 8) and her & her friend are singing the lyrics.  I tell the bitch to not touch that knob.  (If she wanted to touch my other knob that would be okay though). I turn the volume down to about a 12.  They are in a slight rush to get to Penn Station and one of the chicks talks about how she didn’t tip the last cab driver because he got them there late.  As if I’m supposed to give you a high five?  With that said I find myself on 14th heading west to 6th avenue where I ultimately make a decision.

There were a good amount of cars on the right lane & the vast majority of them do make the turn onto 6th avenue.  The left lane was a lot emptier and given that sometimes you can get away with making a crazy turn from there, I decided to give it a shot.  I don’t know if it was more a feeling of confidence, wanting these Jersey broads out ASAP or both, but I get to the left and try to make the turn.  Except…the chick that was in the right lane was in fact trying to go straight.  NIGHTMARES

Fortunately for us, all it was was we felt a small bump and I tried to make a break for it lmfao.  However the chick made the turn herself, hopped out the car and (rightfully) cursed me out.  One of the Jersey girls in the back compliments me on my smooth move.  Um, that was NOT so smooth hoe.  I inspect the “damage” and thankfully it was nothing more than trading some paint but she tells me that I am gonna have to pay for this since she doesn’t want to file a police report.  Yeah, I just got into an accident 2 months earlier I don’t need another one of these.  I tell the broads to get out and they don’t have to pay.  The lady gets on the phone to hit up a guy that she knows about the paintjob and says it’ll cost $150.

Wait?  $150???  Honestly the size of her damage was no worse than a squared slice of American cheese and there was a SLIGHT scratch.  No way will that shit cost $150 unless you plan on using the rarest paint from Bhutan or some shit.  I’m incredulous, but frankly there was nothing I could do about it, so I tell her to follow me to the bank where I withdrew the money.  She tells me her story about how her car is her baby, she’s the youngest of 4 kids and the first one to graduate college, blah blah blah.  It was a cool story sis.

In the end, sometimes you have to ground yourself and say RELAX SON, because not only did I lose a fare, but I lost money on the bank account all for naught.  Same reasons why I don’t try chancing it cutting multiple lanes just to pick up passengers unless I am 100% in the clear, etc.  The rest of the night went great and I made up for the $150, but it should have never came to that.  Shame on me.  And so on.

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