Skip to main content"So you're saying you have no money?"
Why am I not surprised? The guy got into the cab from an address in Felony Flats and talked full-tilt nonstop nonsensically until we got to the Gold Coin Lounge on 82nd. Now he's peering through a wallet that, were it in an old Warner Bros. cartoon, would be portrayed with small moths flying up, out and away. He calls his girlfriend, who is supposedly meeting him here, to see if she'll have money for the cab. We just need to wait five minutes, he swears.
Ten minutes pass as the meter runs. He calls her again; now, apparently, she's not going to be there for half an hour.
I put on my best tough cabbie face and start The Discussion about my getting paid. I politely suggest that if the gentleman is such a regular at this bar as he proclaimed to be, beloved by all, that he go in there and get the fare from someone. He hems and haws.
He keeps going through the wallet as though something of value might suddenly materialize, when he hits upon the idea of offering me two gift cards for Shucks Auto Parts that he has rattling around in there. No ID, no debit/credit cards, no cash, but he's got these. I call the number on the back of them; together they are worth $18, the fare is $16, so I accept.
He's lucky I'm a girl who changes her own oil and spark plugs, that's for sure.
WWeek 2015