Valentine’s Day weekend was sweet, but trying.  It was a very long weekend for me, very busy, and it seemed to me that there were a lot more drugs in my passengers than normal.  Generally people were behaved though, so that’s something!

I picked up one older man from a strip club in town.  When I asked him if a certain exit off the highway was the correct one, twice, he confirmed.  When I asked “should I take this right onto your street?” He said yes.  Turns out I should have taken the previous exit off the highway and that meant I should have taken a left onto his street since I hadn’t.  It didn’t take long to figure it out on my own, but the whole time I was driving the 4 more blocks to his house he was convinced I was going the wrong way and that I wasn’t even on the right street.  It wasn’t until I stopped in his driveway and pointed, “Is this your house?” That he realized that I was doing my job right.  The whole time I was thinking to myself, “how do people get so wasted that they can’t recognize the block they live on or their house until the driver pulls into their driveway?”

On Monday night, the day after Valentine’s Day, tips were much better than actual-Valentine’s-Day.  I had one ride who was on his way to a brew pub but wanted to stop at Walgreen’s.  I mentioned to him that he should check out the candy section for clearance candy.  He asked if that was me hinting at something, but I insisted that I was just trying to be helpful in case he had a sweet tooth.  He ended up buying me a bag of Dove chocolate bites and tipped me $5 on top of that, but also REALLY wanted me to be the one to give him a ride home after he was done drinking.  He flirted a bit, called me pretty, but I remembered before the stop at Walgreen’s he was chatting to me about his wife and kids.  Not only is this pretty lame, but I find it a little insulting.  I won’t get into all of the many reasons why, but it just makes me feel like garbage and that he thinks of me as garbage.  He hinted several times that he wanted my phone number, so I just gave him the company’s business card (which has the company phone number on it) and thanked him again for the chocolates.

One of the last rides on Monday night was from a super-dive bar near the East Towne Mall to Motel 6 near East Towne Mall.  Recently a second Motel 6 opened within two blocks of the older one, so I asked my passenger which one we were going to.  I didn’t stall our journey until I got the answer (like I normally would if there was a question about the destination because I hate going the wrong way), because if the first one wasn’t the correct one, it wouldn’t affect our route.

The first thing the man said was, “I am SO WASTED,” in a very slow, slurred way.  At the first light he had his pockets emptied, shuffling through two handfuls of receipts and garbage.  There was a $10 bill in the mix, and when I pointed it out (because I thought he was looking for money to pay me), he said, “Look at you!  Be a driver!”

I tilted my head a bit at that, and then he started reading random letters and numbers off a paper.  I realized he was trying to find his hotel confirmation or something for the address, but the delay had been so long between my question and this that I had missed that this was his mission in his digging.  I just figured once I got to the first Motel 6 he would say “yes” or “no” on if he was staying there.  He spelled out the name of the street that the first one was on, after rattling off more letters and numbers, so I nodded and said, “okay.”

Then he yelled, “WHERE’S YER HUSBAND?!”  I groaned on the inside.  I didn’t want to start having this tug-of-war conversation with a wasted dude, but luckily he wasn’t waiting for any replies.  “IS HE DEAD?!”  Whoa that escalated.  I still didn’t reply, but made some hemming and hawing noises.  He continued with, “I should call my friend.  Thank him for watching my dog.”  This last sentence was jumbled a little, and had weird breaks in it, so it sounded much less coherent in person.

I pull into the motel and he asks, “Do you think I’ll get robbed here?”  I think about how twelve years ago I dropped off some bank robbers to this very motel.  I think about how wasted this dude is and then I remember he’s got no money anyway.  I start to answer, but get cut off again, “YER PRETTY HOT.”  UGH.

This time I answer, “okay.”
He perks up a little and looks proud of himself, “I SODOMIZE!”
“Oh.  Okay,” I say, a little uneasy and a lot weirded out.
He says slightly slower, “yea I saw dem eyes.  Pretty eyes!”

He got out, I drove off, and I couldn’t fucking believe that misunderstanding.  He TOTALLY said that unintentionally but the jumbled, randomness of the babble coming out of him made it plausible to me that it could have been sodomize.  I laughed my ass off, told my next ride about it, and then told the office staff about it at the end of the night.

At this point I would like to show you what I typically look like while driving cab.  No make-up, slub-a-dub clothing, hair pulled back and bored looking.

What did you just say?

I have no illusion that dudes are hitting on me because I’m dressing for it or “asking for it.”  I’m pretty sure they do it because they’re culturally conditioned to take control of conversations with it, kind of like cat-calling but up close.  It might also be more reflexive while intoxicated, lizard brain style.  I guess my point is that the advances I’m getting have nothing to do with how I look and everything to do with dudes being insecure about having no control because they’re drunk and a stranger is driving them home (I’ve had men who haven’t even opened their eyes because they’re so drunk tell me I’m pretty).  I assume this is why these sorts of men try and pick fights with our male drivers, too.

I wanted to make the point here because I don’t want anyone who reads this to think I’m presenting “sexy” in my cab to solicit flirting.  I’m pretty sure this is the case for all women in the service industry, and it totally blows.  Please mind your manners, men, and be respectful to the women around you.  Don’t just blurt “YER HOT” at the people bringing you coffee or beer, or driving you home.  It’s rude and definitely not flattering.