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Sunday, June 11, 2006


JUNE 10, 1966

Saturday marked the 40th anniversary of my high school graduation. I don't think the "me" then could even begin to comprehend the "me" now.

I had taken a young girl classmate on the senior "skip" day to the "Santa Cruz Beach & Boardwalk" two days earlier. Our first date. We were also going to the senior's overnight graduation party, at the local bowling alley, that night. She was sweet, cuddley, as sarcastic as me and she kissed good.

18 months later, we were married.

20-1/2 years after that we divorced.

Sorry, but this reflection on the past has been bouncing through my mind all night. There was a lot that I was going to write about but its best to just let the past fade into fond memories.

Auld Lang Syne.


When I get pissed, I tend to also get very profane, as one driver found out last night. I hate it when someone screws up and then tries to blame everyone/everything else in the universe for their error. I detest rationalizers. To make matters even worse, he came back after I had chewed him out, stuck his hand in my car window saying,
"You said your piece and I said mine. Lets call it even."

"Unless you want that arm ripped off and shoved up your ass, you had better take it out of my face. You are an amicable, socialable person who is also a two-faced lying SOB and you have the mental capacity of a gerbil. When you have the guts to publicly admit you screwed up, then we'll talk. Now get the fuck away from me."

He went home about 20 minutes later.

* * *

The shift was very slow until about 11:00pm. By that time the day-shift drivers had finally left and Mary M. was on an extended "West-side" roundtrip. That left Harden, TMR Alex and me and the phone started ringing, and ringing and ringing. We ran our o'koles off for the next three hours. The number of trips and the meter total was on par with Friday night.

Next week should be active since all the hotels are overbooked through the "Fourth of July".

* * *

The strangest run of the shift was a pickup from the MPD substation in Kihei. An "ice-head". The trip was only a bit over 1 mile but he was so freaky and agitated that I moved "Maggie" from her normal resting place to my lap. When we arrived at the stated destination he told me to pull just a little further forward. Then forward again. The forward some more. The street we were on is only one very short block long. We finally reached the far end and he wants me to turn left and go a little further.


I locked the doors and told him that this is as far as we are going. Pay me my $8.00. It took a few moments for the message to be processed by his brain. Just as I expected he moved rapidly to his right, trying to open his passenger door.

A "runner"!

The look on his face when the door didn't open was priceless. He looked back at me, still trying to process his options.

"Maggie" was now in plain view.

He slumped in his seat. Defeated. Tossed $20.00 on the center armrests and I released the door locks.

I didn't wait for him to close the door. Just punched the accelerator and let inertia do it's job.

Later I crossed paths with the MPD Sgt. who had been waiting with my fare when I made the pickup and told him what had occurred.
"You got paid though, right?"

"Yeah, with a $12 tip."

He just smiled and walked away.


"Let's all be careful out there!"