I reamed out a cabbie today
 

ordered a cab to go downtown (meeting friends and going in their car from there) - took one hour for the cab to show up here - i'm in a VERY central location in winnipeg and it's NEVER taken more than 5 mins before - there was no traffic today either so that wasn't the problem. i called the cab company 3X during that hour asking what was up - each time they said 5 mins longer. I finally gave up, as my friends had been waiting for a while and phoned them and said i couldn't make it and not to wait for me.

then the cabbie shows up - i tell him i don't want him anymore - i waited an hour and that's not acceptable. he bitches at me saying he only got the call 10 mins ago. I LOST it on him. I fucking HATE being lied to from some lazy jackass who thinks he can pull one over on me. The can company gave me his cab number after the first call - and i know it was in the system and he got the call a MINIMUM of 40 mins earlier, and most likey it was the full hour. I know he was taking someone off the meter somewhere - which is fucking fine by me but don't HOLD MY FUCKING CALL wasting my time while you service someone else when there's a ton of other fucking cabs available to do it.

He almost stepped out of the cab but i told him straight out if he opened the door I'd beat the living shit out of him right there and to get the fuck off my property now and never to hold a call like that again. I think he saw just how serious I was cause he sped off.

I'm only using my limo service from now on - he always shows up when he says he's going to. i thought a limo was a bit much just for me but fuck it from now on. ( my limo driver doesn't use town cars - and he's way cheaper and more relaible than the service that does use them)


nothing pisses me off more then some idiot not having any respect for my time.

well said. :2 cents:

Aw man, that licks butt. better to stick with Deep.

went out with deep last night- totally relaible. i love deep

I used to work as a taxi dispatcher and whenever those stupid motherfucking cabdrivers would pick up a flag on the way to a dispatch call I would want to fucking kill him because I'd have to listen to the person on the phone bitching and they're right so you'd just have to listen helplessly while thinking about all the things you're going to do to fuck this cabdrivers world. After the dumbass would do something like that I would make sure he got nothning but shit calls. Cabdrivers are the stupidest bunch of assholes on earth. I hate them so fucking much. The dispatcher is taking care of him. Believe it.

isn't that par for the course in lovely Manitoba...?
anyone that writes an essay is guilty of something.

are you high?

Why didn't you just drive yourself, Sleazy?

My DUI rule, don't drink anywhere you can't sleep.


j-

going with friends later in their car. - didn't want two vechiles out.

the cabbie probably had every right to bash your skull in.

^ elitism anger management problems ^

yep - you're high

A while back I found out that taking a cab from my place to the airport was MORE expensive than taking a town car. A cab is $50. I can get a town car for $40 and they're always right on time.

Town car it is.

You don't like to drive?

After reading this subject line, I was hoping for a *much* different story in here. :Graucho

You should find your city escort's driver service ... normally they offer really good service if you pay well

I got into fight with limo service last year when we came back to JFK in NY.

Last time iuse those fuckers . Long story........

you should have stuck a knife his one of his tires, and told him consider himself lucky you didn't stick him


























:winkwink:

Small inconvenience, certainly not worth missing the whole time with your friends. When the cabbie was obviously not going to be there on time, get in your car, meet your friends and take two cars, no big deal. Sounds like you must have not really wanted to go to bad.

well too bad

Cabbie couldn't come by until he was done surfing sleazydream.com :Graucho

Nothing worse than when those bastards screw you around.

I had a limo booked for the Metallica concert in Toronto a couple months back, I even gave the guy my credit card number to hold it for me (although they wanted to be paid in cash). The day of the concert I call to ask what time the limo is picking us up.

"Uh, sorry sir, I remember taking your call, but for some reason I never entered the info down on my computer, we have no limo for you today, all our cars are out."

I've never been so pissed in my life. My face was beet red from high blood pressure, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

I have 4 hours till we have to leave to be there on time and I find out we have no ride. It's a 3 hour drive there one way, so it's not like we can just call up any limo service and be ready to go with that short notice. And the guys I were going with are hardcore drinkers so there is no way in hell we were going to drive ourselves. We wanted to party all the way down there and back. (6 hours of driving at least)

Luckily we ended up finding one, although it was twice the price the original guy quoted us. They are lucky we found a ride, because if we didn't they would have been sued for the cost of the tickets, and for 3 guys wages for 1 days work taken off, plus whatever else I could have gotten out of them.

I found out later they were a scam operation, using unlicensed drivers, and the cars they used had dealer plates on them.

owned

i use cabs all the time (almost daily in Montreal), never had a single problem. i would have called another cab company after 20 minutes i think.

Yelling at the cab driver was lame. Maybe it was a dispatch problem. You have a serious anger management problem.

to fat to drive yourself now?

No, if the dispatch told him the cab number it was definately the cabbie. They pick up flags off the street on the way to dispatched calls and don't tell the dispatch because they know the dispatcher will send someone else. So everybody pays a huge price for the dipshit cabbies trying to make a few extra bucks instead of servicing calls in a timely manner - customer, dispatch and ultimately cabbie when his dumbass gets to the call forty minutes late and he's surprised when he's told to fuck off or the customer has already left. Cabdrivers are the dumbest motherfuckers on the planet.

Me:ak47: :clown every cabdriver on Earth

It sounds like you have a lot of stress in your life that you unload on other people.

Now for the true story.

Cab shows up, sees Sleazy coming out and drives off.

:1orglaugh

Hahahaha... Now that was fucking hilarious.

:thumbsup

:1orglaugh :1orglaugh That probably is the true story :thumbsup

Ahhhhh the Peg,

he probably figured he'd take the perimitre and be there in no time. Of course he didn't think about the weather....
I didn't even know they had cabs in the peg. only a wicked casino.

So you'd let the desire to get wasted on alcohol completely dictate whether you went on the trip at all? You'd have taken the day off, but then missed the trip and concert simply because one of you had to drive and couldn't get wasted? Sounds like prior alcohol use might be impairing your judgement.

if some1 would do that to me ... I'd certainly beat the shit out of their cars when they are parked

Dude cab drivers are lazy ass fuckers ...

This is a conversation I had with a cab driver who, for obvious reasons,
prefers to remain anonymous. I'll tell you this much though, he doesn't
drive for the company I drive for. - G.A.

G.A.: Let's start with drinking and driving. Have you ever been drunk
while driving cab?
Driver: Never.
G.A.: How about drugs?
Driver: Oh yeah, heroin. In fact, one time... no... more than once, a couple
times... I'd go to work and I'd be high on heroin and I'd stop and
smoke some pot. I'd be driving along and I'd forget where I was and
where I was going. I'd look around and just not know. I've been
driving cab long enough to recognize where I am in any corner in the
city, but there were a couple of times where I panicked because I
didn't know where I was going or why, you know.
G.A.: Did you have passengers when that happened?
Driver: Oh yeah, with passengers. I just faked it. I kept driving straight
till I could figure out where I was. It was just a momentary lapse,
it would come back in about ten or fifteen seconds.
G.A.: Did that scare you?
Driver: No, I felt really stupid actually. More than anything, I felt dumb.
G.A.: You didn't lose control of the car or anything?
Driver: No, I had control of the car. I've never had any wrecks. I like to
be in control, that's why I used to do heroin, because I like to be
in control too much and I had to escape my desire to be in control!
G.A.: Did you feel like you had to do heroin?
Driver: No, I did heroin because I liked heroin.
G.A.: Well then why did you do it at work?
Driver: That was probably when I was strung out. I think I probably did it
a couple times. There was a certain period of time when it was not
that unusual for me to do heroin while I was driving a cab. But it
wasn't a very long time, it was probably over a period of a couple
years or so.
G.A.: Was it the combination of heroin and pot that made you lose it?
Driver: It definitely seemed to be the pot. That was the culprit.

G.A.: What else has happened while you were under the influence behind the
wheel.
Driver: You're probably referring to the story I told you about the drunken
queen I picked up South of Market who was doing amyl nitrate.
G.A.: Well, that was one of the stories I hoped you'd tell me, but I was
just wondering if anything interesting has happened while you were
under the influence driving.
Driver: Well, I never was all that intoxicated. I never actually drove
drunk. I mean, sometimes I'd have a couple of drinks in a bar at the
end of my shift, but basically I wasn't really driving under the
influence at all. All the really truly horrifying or interesting
things that have happened to me have happened when I've been pretty
straight and sober.
G.A.: Tell me about that.
Driver: I've developed this theory that it seems that all the really weird
things that happen to cab drivers happen to them the first couple of
months that they drive cab. They're kind of like prey in the jungle,
like a newborn or something saying "victimize me" and people pick up
that energy. Actually I think it has more to do with they don't know
how to differentiate between fares that will be a problem and fares
that won't. I actually know this guy who got robbed on his first
night driving and continued to drive for a couple of years and got
robbed twice after that. I don't know what it was with this guy, but
he seemed to attract that. In fact, I think he was robbed twice in
his first week. But he kept driving. Actually, the first couple of
weeks that I was driving, I picked up this guy, and it was probably
4:30 in the morning and this was back in the early 80s when there
used to be a lot of bath houses opened, this was before AIDS
and it was common to find a lot of drunken gays down there trying to
get home. This guy, I picked him up and he was pretty out of it. He
was sniffing amyl nitrate and asked me if I wanted some and I said
no. But I had my window mostly rolled up and as he was doing it, I
was kind of getting high off the fumes anyway. I had to roll down the
windows gasping for air. He had asked me if I minded him doing it
and I said "No, I don't care what you do as long as you pay me." So
then he pulls out this dildo, and holds it up and says "I'm gonna put
this in my ass." I just turned to look at him and said "Great." So he
pulled his pants down and pulled his knees up around his ears and
started sticking this dildo in his ass. I just drove and tried to
ignore it. Like I said, I didn't really know any better. I thought
maybe this was what cab driving in San Francisco was about. And
he's sticking it in going "Look at me look at me! Watch me, this is
like my pussy!" And I looked back and it was pretty disgusting and he
kept doing that and I was just trying to get him where he was going.
And he said "It's ok, I'll pay you extra" And that time of the
morning, money was kind of scarce so I was willing to go along with
it. So we keep driving and then he says "I'm gonna jerk off now." And
that's where I drew the line "No, you're not going to jerk off." And
he says "No, it's ok, I'll clean it up, I have a towel! I'll give you
fifteen dollars!" And I thought about it and said "Ok", cause fifteen
dollars is fifteen dollars. So he started jerking off, and he had
this greasy little towel that he wiped it up with after he came.
And then he started sticking his dildo in his ass again. And the next
thing I know he had hung his ass over the front seat and he's
sticking the dildo in and out of his ass right beside my ear. And I
kinda looked over and I was completely flabbergasted and all of a
sudden it dropped out of his ass and onto the seat beside me. It fell
right on top of my waybill and it was just sitting there with the
street lights glistening off of it, and he said "Grab it and stick it
in!" And I said "No, no, I'm not going to do that." And then he said
"I'll give you ten dollars more!" And I said "Oh, ok." And
I shoved it up his ass. Anyway, by that time, we had pulled up to his
apartment building at Hayes and Pierce and I said "Ok, that's it, get
out." And he only gave me like ten bucks extra so I was kind of
pissed. Then he asked me if I would come upstairs with him and he
said, "All you have to do is sit there and watch me jerk off." And I
said "No, you won't, you already ripped me off." So he got out, and
started walking away and I started driving away. I heard him yell,
and I looked in my rear view mirror and he's standing in the middle
of the street with has pants down and he's holding the dildo up in
the air and he turns and he sticks it up his ass.
That was probably my most curious fare.
G.A.: Did you just go home after that?
Driver: No, I finished my shift first.

G.A.: What else has happened to you?
Driver: Well, OK. I've had a few blowjobs while driving. And I've noticed
it becomes extremely difficult to not drive erratically when having
an orgasm in someone's mouth. I was actually coming back from a show
in Palo Alto and I'd decided I wasn't going to drink I was gonna have
to drive back and that the cops were going to be out in full force.
So I didn't drink for the whole show and then after the show I was
going to leave, but the guy who was running the show started setting
up drinks on the bar, and he just lined up ten or fifteen kamikazes
in a row. And I just took a look at them and said, "Aw, what the
hell," and I drank about seven of them in a row. Then I stayed there
for another hour or two and drove back in the van. Which I'm not
particularly proud of, that's one of the few times in my life when I
definitely knew without a doubt that I was too drunk to drive
safely. And I was kind of weaving around the road and I got a blowjob
on the way back too, and that was extremely... uh... that was
definitely... I wasn't staying in my lane.

Driver: Anything weird happen to you since you started driving?
G.A.: Yeah, within the first month of driving, I had every conceivable type
of couple make out in the back of my cab. First it was a guy and a
girl, then it was two guys, then a transvestite and a guy and then a
transvestite and a woman, and then last it was two women. They were
just friends I guess, and they were coming home from a double date
and they just started making out like crazy in the back seat. One of
them was saying, "No, no, the cab driver might be from that HBO show.
He probably has a hidden camera!" And I said "Oh, how did you know?
It's right here in the mirror!" And they freaked out and got really
mad at me! I thought it was funny, but they were really upset.
Driver: I picked up this one guy at the Oasis Motel. It was like 2 in the
morning, and I picked him up on the corner, and he was a young white
guy, tall, normal, good looking guy. And he said, "I've only got five
dollars, can you get me to Union and Larkin?" And I knew it was going
to be a little more than that, but I agreed to take him. He was
eating something out of a styrofoam cup and I didn't really take much
notice of it. So we got there, and the meter had gone to close to six
bucks or something and I'd turned it off and he gave me the five
dollars and said thanks and got out. And then I drove down into North
Beach and I stopped over by the TransAmerica building and this guy
opens the back door and goes "UGH!!" And I turned around and
the last guy had smeared chili all over the back seat!
G.A.: That's totally weird! That's a perfect story. That's exactly what I'm
looking for. Speaking of the Oasis, that's where I got my best ride.
It in the first few months that I had been driving and I got a radio
call to the Oasis. I drove through the little drive-in garage they've
got there and this woman got into my cab wearing a motorcycle leather
and leather pants I think. Anyway, she told me she was going to 44th
and Balboa. I wasn't sure whether it would be quicker to take Turk
all the way or if I should take Geary at that point, so I asked her
which she preferred. She told me she didn't care, that she wasn't a
bitch and that however I drove, as long as she got home she'd be
happy. So I started driving and I asked her how her day had been. She
told me she'd taken the day off from work and that she worked at the
Market Street Cinema [a strip club]. I don't remember exactly
how the conversation went, but I remember not thinking all that much
about the fact that she worked in the sex industry. She asked me
about being a cab driver and then went on to tell me that she had
lived for a number of years in Boston and had done a bunch of work as
an S&M queen and that S&M queens were a dime a dozen in San Francisco
so she wasn't making as much money as she did on the more repressed
East Coast. I nodded and kept driving, then out of nowhere she was
leaning into the front seat saying "You're so sweet! You're such a
sweetheart! You're the nicest cab driver I've ever had! Most other
drivers would have at least asked me for a blowjob by now!" I was
stunned for a second. Then I choked and said "Um, that hadn't really
occurred to me. I mean, we were just talking about work. I uh..."
Then I started wondering if I was weird for not asking her, or if
she was crazy, or what. We arrived at her house, the meter said
twelve dollars and she asked me if I had change for a hundred dollar
bill. I never have change for a hundred dollar bill. Not even if I
really do have change for a hundred dollar bill. You know?
Driver: Yeah. I know.
G.A.: So I said "No," trying to sound as annoyed as possible and she said
she had to run into the house. She left her jacket in the car and
then came back out after a minute and handed me a hundred dollar
bill. I started to say that I didn't have change, but she cut me off
and said "Keep the change." I asked her if she was sure and she said,
"Yep, stay sweet" or something like that and started to walk away.
She turned around before she got to the house and said "That's the
biggest tip you've ever gotten right?"
Driver: Ha! She wanted to make sure!
G.A.: Yeah, it was really strange.
Driver: People want to make some sort of impression on you even when it's a
somewhat anonymous situation.

G.A.: There's this weird class thing that happens too. It seems like most
people who take cab rides assume that the driver is from a lower
class than they are, and that means they can either treat you like a
servant or they figure that you'll do anything for money.
Driver: I quickly end that shit.
G.A.: Yeah, I don't usually say anything to people, but it comes up a lot
that I've been to college and people always ask me why I'm driving a
cab. And I just tell them that I like it, that it's kind of a fun
job. Every once in a while I'll have someone in the back of my cab
talking about something that I know a lot about, like computers or
desktop publishing or something and I'll wait for an opportunity to
correct them on something, or offer up an answer to a question
they're asking the other person. It's really fun when it's something
really nerdy like a Unix shell account discussion or something. It
really hurts their minds when I can participate in a conversation
with them about something they can't comprehend a cab
driver knowing anything about. But you know, it seems like most
people want to ask me "What else do you do?" I don't want to talk
about Cool Beans! all the time, so sometimes I make something up and
flat out lie to them.

[end]


fuck i love that story.. let me get some more..

Well, cab drivers are scum bags. Now I know you're a scum bag. Worse.
You're a whore. A pimp and a whore under one roof. And you're a fucking
little sociopath. These credentials are impressive, but won't necessarily
make you a good cabby. You do look the part, if you weren't so goddamn
cute. A few more years of drink and drugs will take care of that.

Anyway.

Cab drivers are scum bags. They lust only for whores and gambling. They
like to fight. They like to kick jerks out of their cab. They are jerks.
They're not nice to women and children, even if they are women and
children. Arty types don't make the grade. They're sheep in cab driver
clothing. A real cab driver is a full time son of a bitch. He may or may
not know how to speak English, but you can bet he's a talking asshole in
any language. The son of a bitches will never grow up. They don't want real
jobs. They're eternal boys, which is to say your average American fellah,
except they do it for a living.

Have a beer.

Cabbies take the worse shit a man can take and get paid for it.
Mercenary killers are higher on the ladder. So are whores when it comes to
selling your ass. A cabby is a legal criminal. Something like a lawyer,
same branch of pedestrianism. Know what they call a cabby without a
hangover? A nonsequitur. No such animal. You'd fit in there pretty well.
Drugs too. You gotta take lots of drugs to be a cabby. But know how to
handle them. Combine them like an alchemist. The best cabbies can shoot a
goofball in their neck going sixty in heavy traffic and the passengers
won't even notice. You'd do alright there too.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. The most important part - and I don't know if you fill the
bill here. We'll see - a cabby's gotta know how to push a hack. If you
can't pass a hack through the eye of a needle, you ain't no cabby. The
cab's gotta be an integral part of you. It has to fit like a glove, hang
like a genital, bounce like a tit, shit like an eagle, fly like a demon,
burrow through the city like a rat in a garbage heap and come out shining.
You gotta be able to sneak up on a fare like a pickpocket. You gotta
squeeze through double parked cars like toothpaste. There can't be more
than the distance between the hem of a whore's skirt and her snatch between
you and sleepwalking pedestrians. You gotta have nerves of steel and the
patience of a toad. Otherwise you'll crack up. You'll get fired or end up
in a fireball on the freeway. Cab driving is magic and you gotta master the
automatic pilot. If you're the type of pedestrian who bumps into other
people on the street, probably you won't make a cabby.

Got it?

Now's for the passenger. You gotta put meat in the back seat. That
meter's gotta be running or you ain't going to make it. You're going to
sweat blood to find the bastards and eat shit when you do. They'll put you
through the ringer. "Driver, where you taking us? This isn't the right way.
I'm taking your number. The police will hear about this!" They'll get out
after chewing your ear off and stiff you. The ones you've given the best
service to. The insult cuts like a knife and the stiff knows it. It's hard
out there these days. People are frustrated, powerless like they were in
Hitler's Germany. They make their little power plays wherever they can. You
got to shrug your shoulders. Keep your armor shining. Keep the meter
running. You'll be a true blue misanthrope in no time. Just take a few
hundred of the bastards around on Saturday night and you'll see what I
mean. They get in smelling of toothpaste, deodorant, perfume, mouthwash.
You'll pick them up a few hours later reeking of garlic, alcohol, digesting
food. A rich nauseating stink of momentary happiness. They'll scream in
your ear and tell bad jokes. The assholes will test your patience. They'll
spill drinks, vomit, ejaculate and fight like cats and dogs. You'll get
real familiar with the hose and the rag. You pick them up overflowing with
gaiety at the beginning of the evening and drop them off at the end angry,
depressed, gibbering drunk. You'll hear the same selfish, petty,
narrow-minded, ignorant, misinformed, vicious conversation repeated over
and over. Every one of the bastards thinking their situation is unique.
Planning kids, marriages, and careers before they know how to tie their
shoes. It's the same everywhere. The big muddled blueprint of the herd.

Now you'll have some fine human experiences, the kind that flood you
from head to toe with a warm sense of beatitude. You'll pick up the father
who's just watched his wife give birth. You'll pick up the widow who's just
watched her husband die. You'll pick up the ones that have been stabbed and
shot and raped and take them to the hospital. You'll take them home later
bandaged from head to toe. You'll pick up the guy on his way to the bridge
to jump. You'll pick up the young lovers and you'll wipe off the back seat
when they get out. You'll pick up a thousand sob stories and broken hearts.
You'll pick them up by the tens of thousands and they'll all give you the
same corny lines. The hopeless banality of it all will sicken you like the
smell of rotten meat. But the cab driver has to put up with it. He gets the
big picture. He gets the whole stinking overview. It's okay for the
passenger who experiences reality from one point of view. But a cabby sees
it like the Buddha.

He's got to cultivate the sewer.

Another beer? Sure, sure. Go ahead. Have a line. That's what it's there
for. Don't interrupt. I keep losing my train of thought.

Everybody's desperate. Everybody's got guns. They'll shoot you in the back
and ask questions later. You gotta have your radar on. A map of the city's
gotta light up in your brain. You gotta see not only where the fare is when
I call it, but the fare that ain't called. You'll see a fuzzy area where
the danger is. It'll come as a stink or a bad taste in your mouth. You
gotta size up a killer from several blocks away before you can see his
eyes. Gotta see how he's standing. How he's dressed. How he signals you. If
he's hiding something, it'll show. A sick light will burn a hole through
the map. You'll pass him at sixty. Only then will you see the ozone in his
eyes. The blank hole which is the enemy. Hermes won't fail you here. Take
my word for it. That's why I don't put no fucking cage between you and the
back seat. If you're stupid enough to pick up a cemetery run, you shouldn't
be driving in the first place.

There's something else. You gotta be a good Christian. You gotta be
nice. A real sweetheart. You gotta be kind as a bloodthirsty bat at a
prayer meeting. Clever as a praying mantis in some rich matron's crab
salad. Somebody different for every asshole that gets in your cab. Oldest
trick in the world. All holymen are hip to it. You gotta be what they want
you to be. Then you'll succeed. I mean you gotta be nasty when it's
necessary. But not lowbrow nasty. You gotta score. And you don't score with
cheap shots.

Another thing you should keep in mind: Cab driving is contagious. Once
you're addicted, it'll eat you inside out and spit out the pit. You won't
ever want to go back to a regular job, that is - if you're a true hack. Of
course I know you're a whore. You already know the business from one angle.
It's like religion. Eat at some holy trough while the head monk sticks it
to you.

Anyway, as I was saying, the virus is lethal. You'll find you can't
function without the cab. You'll hate it. Take a day or two off and you'll
be longing for your ride. It's like drugs that way. Cab driving will eat
your soul and there won't be anything else for you.

Guess that about covers the details. Only thing you have to do now is
get out there and get to work. And I told you not to ask questions. Just
follow orders and don't worry. I'll tell you what you need to know over
Radio Two. Just keep your ears open. I'll be talking to you.

Now hit the road.

only idiots make assumptions