Sketchbook Cabbie

The Smoker

At least the cabbie ahead of me in line, steps out of his cab to light up. His vehicle continues to chug out carbon monoxide and numerous  other fluorocarbons, though. I won’t allow people to smoke in my cab. I also drive a hybrid vehicle that barely emits any harmful emissions. I want us to last longer.

The Matchmaker and the Con

  I’m always amazed at the diversity of people’s points of view. This morning I took three parolees, after their release from San Quentin prison, from the San Rafael Bus Depot where they get dropped, to the Richmond BART Station on the other side of the bay. The talkative con next to me in the front seat said he needed three things. “Coffee, Micky-Dees and pussy.” Just as informs me, I realize the homies in the black Escalade in the next lane notice my passengers. “Yup, we free now”, the con says, “Dude’s bitch must be workin’.” He figures the driver must be a pimp. I’ll bet my con’s mother never taught him to respect women.

    In the afternoon, I picked up one of our regular customers from Safeway. The elegant Pari is a matchmaker. They call her the Queen of Hearts for the 240 marriages or long-term relationships she’s facillated. ‘It’s good karma”, she says. And I have to agree. She helps to hook people up. It’s good, respectful work. It honors people and their humanity.

    I get all kinds in my cab. I try not to judge. People’s upbringing, hardships and education shape them into who they are and how they think. I just get them where they need to go.

Henry has Soul and No Teeth

Henry and his buddy Dave struggle out of the halfway house in the Canal district of San Rafael. Henry has soul and no teeth. He also carries a cane and uses our cabs regularly. They need a lift to the 7-Eleven for burritos and to Al’s Liquors for refreshments. They smell for lack of bathing. Both are ‘down-and-outers’ but for now have a roof over their head and money for cab fare. During the ride, while Dave remains silent, Henry talks non-stop and cracks off-color jokes. Being toothless makes him almost unintelligible. He tells me he just got out of a 90-day rehab. I wonder to myself what that might mean. I figure it’s for alcoholism for obvious reasons. “I lived in a room I can only describe as a fucking cell”, he points out. I imagine his present abode can’t be much better. Funny and sad this one. They live life like they have the plague…segregated and bottom feeding. I get a $5 tip from Henry. I bid him well till next time.

Spandex Chick does Tire Repair at the Golden Gate Bridge