Chuck was one of my first passengers that I recognized as a “Regular”. I have been giving him rides since I first started, he long out-dates me with history in the company. He’d ride from work (the Vilas Zoo) to his home, or from his home to the Kollege Klub (with a stop for lottery scratchers), and he’d walk up State Street to his favorite bar: The Paradise. He’d call us again at the end of his night to get a drunken ride home. There are rumors that he really hung out a lot at the gay bar next door, The Shamrock, and just called us from the Paradise: not wanting anyone to know he was at the ‘Rock. He’d always be sitting in the Paradise when I came around to pick him up, though.
Chuck had his own style. He would groom his thick mustache into one of those Curly Q mustaches. He had peppered hair. On his way to the bar, when he would make a stop for his scratchers, he’d only tip about $1. On his way home, he’d tip 2 or 3. The Paradise serves food, and he would have a box of chicken fingers for his dogs on his way home. He’d whistle through his teeth, apologize for being “Pie Eyed”, and ask you if he’d ever gotten a ride home from you before… even if this was the 50th time. Sometimes when he wasn’t extremely drunk he’d recognize you and not ask, but be embarrassed he didn’t know your name. He’d always tell you he worked for the Zoo, with the primates and big cats. He’d always try to get you to come inside to meet his dogs- they were mastiffs. One was named Rosie, and I cannot remember the other’s name. Veteran drivers would warn you against ever accepting this invitation: once you pet his dogs, you would have to stop at the office to wash your hands because they were very smelly. VERY smelly. But also very nice.
We affectionately nicknamed him Up Chuck. Not because he ever got sick but because he NEVER got sick no matter HOW drunk he was (which was quite remarkable), and also because his name was Chuck.
One night about a year ago I took Chuck home, and he was more drunk than usual. He forgot to tip me and made a small mess of the back seat when he accidentally dumped over his chicken fingers (but put them back into the box to bring into the house for his dogs). He dropped money into the snow on his way up to the door, and I noticed this as I was backing out. He hadn’t figured out his key for the door yet, so I got out of my cab and picked up the money. I brought it to him, it was a $1 and a $5 bill.
“Did I tip you?” He asks.
“No, you didn’t,” I reply.
He hands me the $5, smiles, and asks me again if I’d like to meet his dogs. “Okay.” I smile, pet one of them behind the ear once, and let Chuck go pass out. I quickly get myself to the office to wash my hands, remembering the many times the veteran cab drivers warned me against doing exactly what I had done.
Chuck passed away almost two weeks ago. Everyone had been wondering why he hadn’t been calling recently. Someone found his obituary in the newspaper, complete with a picture of him with his curly q mustache. He worked at the Vilas Zoo for 35 years and died at the age of 53. Someone mentioned that he had been spending money like he knew “something was up”, and it is speculated that he died of some kind of cancer. The paper just said he was found dead in his home. The last time I had him in my cab, he mentioned his daughter had come back around and he was helping her out with bills and things.
Chuck will be missed by every cab driver at our company. Not a single cab driver I know has ever said they didn’t like driving him. He’s been a common ground for my co-workers and I, but I believe he’s truly a legend with us and will be remembered forever.
Two Saturdays ago, I had a very conservative group of 4 men in my cab. They were all drunk, and they were all between the ages of 30 and 50. They were all assholes. I didn’t want to talk about politics, they brought it up. They didn’t bring it up to argue about them, they brought it up to tell me how dumb I was. Then the guy directly behind my seat starts making comments under his breath about me, insulting me. The guy in the front seat makes sexual innuendos. I threaten with the police, things calm down a little, we get to their destination. The guy that was making bad comments under his breath the whole way pays me, I hand him his $4 change. “HOW MUCH SHOULD WE *TIP* HER?” he yells to his buddies that have already gotten out.
“I don’t want your money, get the fuck out of my cab,” I said. I think I insulted him, because he wouldn’t get out of my cab until I repeatedly said “Get the FUCK out of my CAB” several times, pointing at his face. He said things like “Don’t be a cunt” and “Don’t point,” I assume to try to regain “control” of the situation. I think denying him the ability to deny me money really pissed him off. One of his friends said he was calling 911. I laughed, told him go right ahead. What was he going to do? Tell them I wouldn’t accept a tip and wouldn’t let them just sit in my cab as long as they wanted yelling at me? Good luck with that, sir.
***
Last Friday I had three women in my cab. When I pulled up to the Cardinal to pick them up, two were screaming at each other. “I can’t believe you called a cab! This was your idea to go out dancing! You’re a terrible friend!”
“I called a cab because I wanted to go home, you can stay out all you want!”
Third girl comes up to me “Should I just leave?” I ask.
“Who are you waiting for?”
“Kathy.”
“KATHY YOU LIED THIS *IS* YOUR CAB!”
All three girls get in.
The girl in the middle-back seat has her hands on each of the front seats, separating the other two and creating a wall. The whole way these girls are yelling profanities at each other, calling each other “Smelly Bitch” and whatnot. I giggle, and the girl in the middle is like: “See, she’s laughing at you guys! Knock it off!”
“She’s not laughing at ME, she’s laughing at HER!”
“No, I’m laughing at you both!” I say. I was laughing because they had volleyed “You can stick it!” “No you stick it!” “No YOU stick it!” back and forth a few times. They truly sounded like 12-year-olds.
When we got on the freeway they start slapping each other. They didn’t stop until I threatened at the top of my lungs to dump them in the middle of the Highway. They were my age.
At the end of the ride there was a moment of immaculate cooperation. For a full minute the yelling stopped as they politely figured out who would pay. I was stunned!
Tonight my phone was taken from me and thrown out the window of my cab without me knowing until after the ride was over. Then the four boys responsible for this ran on me without paying their $17.75 fare.
BOOOOOOOOOOO
If you’re trying to get a hold of me and I’m not answering, its because I have no cell phone. I’ll have one tomorrow.
“Hi.
Last Thursday night, June 8th, you gave my 14 year old son a ride from Fitchburg to the far west side. The ungrateful jerk didn’t think to tip you, as I’ve taught him, so I’m sorry you had to wait this long for some cash.”
Customer leaves a sealed envelope with this signed note and a $10 bill in the dispatch office for me. His son was actually very pleasant but i didn’t mind so much that he didn’t tip, he was only 14.
Getting the note was freaking amazing, though!
Another fun story:
I had cab #69 on Thursday night. Two people get in and start makin’ out immediately in the back seat, and I let them know which cab they were in- “The Shaggin’ Wagon,” and they giggled. Down the road some rustling happens and I am thinking maybe they’re starting some heavy petting. Then I hear another giggle out of the girl and she exclaims “You kissed my eyeball!”
HAHAHAHAHHAHA
“Mmmm tastes like eyeball” says her boyfriend.
Later, at the end of the ride as she’s getting out of the cab, “You should really get a different job. It just seems like this is a guy’s job and I’m just looking out for you.” Thanks for the heads up! This last line got under my skin.
yellowandblackmail