Cabbies, regardless of what company they work for, tend to have each other's backs in violent situations. But the thing about my superintendent is that he doesn't "tend" to have my back, he always has it. I'm not a large man, but I stand behind him with my arms folded, eyeing potential improvised weapons. A crowd of similarly minded drivers forms.
We're there to protect our boss, but we're also judging him. He does well, calmly and sternly telling the interloper to leave without giving an inch or showing fear. The man doesn't comply, instead choosing to run up to people and yell about how he's a suicide bomber, and that we better have guns if we want to take him on.
A cop shows up before things escalate further, and I can't see through the crowd. I hear her yelling at the man to take his hands out of his pockets, and then see him storm into the heart of the garage. I press into a corner and hope that the cop isn't dumb enough to open fire.
She's not. Her backup is there in seconds, and the man's taken away with his pants around his ankles. The mob of drivers disperses in seconds, off to work.
You can get ahold of real nasty police-issue spray stuff in little cans now, that really does immobilize just about anyone, but that it's best not used in a closed space like the inside of a car. Then again, same goes for all but the daintiest of firearms.
What did the Blueshirts have to use to subdue the wild man ? The image of his glaring visage was posted in every cab for a while with a warning about his sheer size. I bet they just tasered the shit out of him...
85 had me feeling a little queasy for the first half of my shift last night. Of course today I'll be cooly showing pictures of it to my friends, shrugging like it ain't no thang and trying to look like a bad-ass.
I'll bet he's out on the street again soon, playing maniac, and will actually have to hurt someone before they put him away for a very, very short time. In a world that is getting nastier and more confrontational by the minute, and violent assholes are as common as fleas on a raccoon, it's nice to know that the cops are a phone call away.
at
any
rate.
one morning the supe handed me a flyer and he told me to post it in the cab. a few hours into my shift i heard the beep beep beep and i hit "accept" and i looked at the address and then i remembered...drive. fcn flag. drive. flag ok. drive. meter on. drive. soon to clear 111. drive. meter off.
while walking the streets in northwest the other day i realized that i feel safe when i'm in my cab and so it goes. girl? whatever. the boys worry about some of us. me thinks that the girls are less likely to get into trouble. nevermind the fact that i will pepper spray words that will forever burn the fare of a brain who even thinks he/she might get away with ripping me off and it hasn't happened yet. *knocks on wood* minus the cute little old lady that i picked up from the hair salon. all i could do was laugh. hustled by an 80 year old woman and i still managed to get 10 dollars out of her. i'm kind. i don't mind. when you blatantly try to rip me off you mind find yourself temporarily blind. speaking of broadsides...
i saw 85 on wednesday afternoon. i saw the driver a few minutes later. on thursday morning the driver stopped by. he's okay. it takes time to sit, stand, walk and i think he said something about how it hurts when he poops and no he is not my boyfriend. jeepers.