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Saturday, November 10, 2007



Received the call, my phone night, a little past 1a today. A request from the security patrol service in the planned resort community of Wailea. They had a stranded, intoxicated woman at an intersection in far south Wailea. Near the Diamond Resort, just up the hill from Mulligans On The Blue. I was first up and responded. Arrive and this late 30's - early 40's woman wearing skin tight jeans and the thinest, sheerest, barelyest legal spaghetti strapped tank top I have ever seen. If she had had coins on her boobs I would have been able to read the mint date. Had that "rode hard and put away wet" look. The beauty of her youth fading fast as she strives for just a bit more time of being attractive. The security supervisor tells me where she needs to go to. A street name that doesn't exist on the island. For some strange reason he felt the need to act as translator between me and the woman. It finally boiled down to the ultimate question after determining the correct destination.
"Do you have funds?"
I asked
Said the security dude.
Said the woman.
"Do you have cash to pay for the ride?"

"No. I'll write you a check when we get there."

"We don't accept checks, ma'am. Strictly cold, hard cash."
This ride should end up just shy of $30 on the meter and I wanted to be sure that I would get paid. Besides her attire, the other thing I noticed when I first saw her was that she had no purse and if she had cash in her jeans it was the flattest folded paper in existence.
"Take her. We'll pay you."
Security piped in.
"If I have to take her home and then come back to get paid, I'll be charging you double. And just how do you plan to pay me?"

"I'll cut you a check at the office."

"You know what? This ride isn't going to happen. Ma'am, please get out of the cab. Dude, you have a problem on your hands that you tried to wipe clean by passing it on to me."
The woman gets out sobbing and the security guy orders me to leave.
"Whoa, dude. You have no authority, right or authorization to order me to do anything. This is a public street and you are in no way, shape, form or figment of your imagination a police officer."

"I know. I am just a glorified janitor."

"Don't overrate yourself."
For a Friday it was okay. Made it to OGG once and chased a few "no-shows". Was very surprised at what the meter totaled when I summed up the shift.

Followed Tina's lead from earlier this week. Took over the phone at 9p.
"Okay. ONE-NINE now has the phone. 0-9 and 1-8, you can now go home. Have a good night."
Dead silence.

These 2 drivers from day shift refuse to accept their share of the workload by dispatching. Per the owners instructions they must leave by 9p or their name will be added to the dispatch rotation list. Meaning that they would be required to stay until 2a, working the phone and radio.
1-8 finally said that she had to stay to cover her "special" that would be returning to Wailea from a Kihei restaurant around 9:30p. That removed her from the dispatch queue.
8 minutes later, 0-9 logs off. He was sitting with another driver when I made the pronouncement and apparently became highly aggrieved.

After 10p, it was just one bar run after another. One way or the other. I kept busy through bar-close and into the dog-watch. Drunk after drunk after drunk.

15 fares / 133 miles / 1st quarter $200 bracket

Doing anything special this weekend?

Have fun!






"Let's all be careful out there!"