HEAVEN
Meet Ryan and Christine. They "tied the knot" yesterday. From Kula, upcountry Mau'i, and a friend had donated his apartment for their honeymoon.
Newlyweds, sigh, I just love them. Their faces agleam with dreams of their future. Thats the nice things about dreams. Sometimes they come true.
AND HELL
This is Mercedes. She has just passed out in the driveway of the wrong house. She is covered in her own vomit. Let me tell you the story:
Around 12:45a I respond to a call from the
Sports Page. One person headed into Maui Meadows. A small cadre of folks were milling around two young women seated on the walkway to
The Page's entrance. My passenger was the tall, shapely blond with an attractive face. The brunette girl assisted Mercedes to her feet with the assistance of two of the male "millers".
Oh boy.
This is gonna be a fun ride, I could tell already.
They load her into my right rear seat, asking her if she has money. As soon as she told/showed them
"Yes", I asked for her address.
"Maui Meadows."
"Sweetheart. Maui Meadows is a location. Not an address."
Brunette stick her head in the right front passenger window.
"She's really drunk."
"Thats why I am asking her these questions. She'll be unconscious two minutes after we start moving.
Sweetheart what is your name?"
"Mercedes."
"Mercedes, where in Maui Meadows do you live? The exact street address."
"Kapu." (fake name-Wil)
"Where on Kapu?"
"1-4-4."
"Mercedes, there is no such address as '1-4-4' on Kapu. Think hard now. What is your house number?"
Brunette butts in with,
"She already told you. 1-4-4."
"There is no such address on Kapu. They are all 4-digits. Not 3."
"Oh. I see. What's your address Mercedes?"
Poor Mercedes is totally confused. Her face showed the obvious evidence of very strained thought. The synapses of her brain desperately seeking connection to one another. With minimal success.
Suddenly, the light behind her eyes glowed a brief glimpse of cognitive thought.
"3404 Kapu. I live at 3404 kapu."
"Thank you Mecedes. I know that somewhere along the road you are going to need to throw up. I am putting all the windows down. If the feeling hits you suddenly, just stick your head out the window. Okay?"
"Okay."
At 12:51a we start moving. 1/2 block, 30-seconds, later she says,
"Pull..."
I am at the curb. Stopped.
"...over."
Light up the interior and she is just sitting there, getting greener by the second. Facing me.
"OPEN THE DOOR!
STICK YOUR HEAD OUT THE DOOR!
NOW!"
She turns, gets the head out and lets loose. About 45 seconds later, she turns back into
ONE-NINE, closing the door. I hand her some napkins and a paper bag from an earlier "choke-n-puke" dinner I had.
"I am better now. Thanks. We can go."
She gave me a very pretty smile and immediately fell across the rear seat. Out cold.
We get to the address. I illuminate the interior and turn to wake her up. She's vomited on the leather seat. I call her name, loudly. She starts to raise her head. Got it about 1 inch (2 cm) off the surface and then the entire contents of her stomach erupted. Covering the entire rear seat, her face and hair. A large mass sliding down the front of her shirt, both inside and out. Continuing down to her micro-mini skirt. Covering it, along with her thong panties, and finally resting on her thighs and knees.
She jerks upright.
I go around and open her door. She collapses as she tries to assume an erect position. I take her arm and stand her against the right rear quarter panel. And get her purse and cell phone out of the pond of wine and what appeared to be "hot dogs" on the seat. There is a small wad on money lying there. I could see that there was enough to cover the fare, so just left it where it was.
I take her by the arm which was awkward, she was about 4-inches taller than me. Start leading her to the residence. We get about 10 feet before she crumples to the driveway, as shown above.
I gave up. I knew I couldn't leave her like that, against my personal "Code of Honor".
I advise dispatch that I am going to be out of service and the reason. You could hear the sympathy in his voice when he responded. She had told me that her roommate was at home so I decided to pound the door and get some assistance.
"WHERE THE FUCK AM I?"
Ah. She was sitting upright, conscious( in the most liberal of definitions).
"This is where you wanted me to bring you."
"I told you 3404 Kapu."
I point my handheld spotlight at the mailbox.
"This is 3404 Kapu. See?"
"Oh."
Long silence as the remaining 13 neurons in that cute head tried to download this new dataset.
"Maybe its 3604."
"Your address is 3604 Kapu?"
"Yes."
I help her back into
ONE-NINE. She started to get in the front seat but I told her that I really didn't feel like cleaning more than I had to.
She climbed into the back, her skirt hem now above the waist line and plopped, literally, into the puddle.
Guess what?
Kapu stops at 3563.
My options are swiftly fading. Start back the other direction on Kapu. Now she becomes "chatty"
"You're my hero. You saved me tonight. If you had left me....
I love you! I really, really love you. Can I fuck you? I really want to get fucked tonight. I give great head. And I do anything, everything.
My house! That's my house! Stop!"
We were at the complete opposite end of Kapu. The beginning of the 3100 block.
I already had her money, wrapped in a paper napkin, on the dashboard. I just stopped where we were and she opened the door and fell to the road.
"I am okay. I am okay. I just slipped."
And she stood up, took 4 steps across the street and walked straight into the side of a black car parked along the edge of the road. Under the street light. Bounced off it. Veered left like some kid's toy and staggered down a driveway, through the car port and then into theback yard.
It was now 1:17a.
Went home and got my cleaning materials.
It was a great night, despite the puker.
14 fares / 140 miles / 3rd quarter $200 bracket
The owner kinda suggested to the day shift that they should come in earlier and not stay out so late. He is short cabs some early mornings and most of those runs are not half-bad. Ergo, we had the night shift and one holdover. We stayed busy and everyone on the night crew made money. I even made it to
OGG.
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A three chapter collaboration between three bloggers.
You have to read it! It is awesome and excellent.
Chapter 1 -
THE COPChapter 2 -
THE PARAMEDICChapter 3 -
THE NURSE***
Have a great day everybody!
Mahalo
Aloha
THE PICTURE GALLERYHana Area
Mau'i
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"Let's all be careful out there!"
View On Google Earth
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Posts
A drunk in an older model dark green pickup truck, with way oversized tires, to compensate for his personal "short-comings", had a spot'o'trouble negotiating the treacherous parking lot lights this morning at FoodLand. Of course, he didn't see the need to wait for the police to arrive. And they didn't have far to come from. Thats the Kihei District Station in the lower image. Right there in the corner of the building. They park their vehicles in the back. In Hawai'i, most locals always flee the scene of an accident. It must be a cultural thing. Like the ghetto dwellers on the mainland. Cowards to the core.
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