Saturday, September 20, 2008

postscript

Another airport pickup, likely the ten thousandth. Each one different. Like snowflakes.
Another engineer from India because we can't produce enough talented people.
Another ride to Boston: two people who probably studied in High School and ended up with good jobs and lives with houses and dogs and kids.
Another, a young lady, went to the Hilton. No tip. Go ahead to your fancy hotel and good luck with everything. Beatch. Sorry.
Later on this shady character gets in all drunk and drugged out. Kept on saying he wanted to go to a strip club but I told him by the time we get there they'll be closing down man. He has me pull over at some weird house, pays me and asks me to wait. I waited long enough for him to be out of the line of sight and cruised on outta there. I just had a bad feeling. Funny thing though. Best tip-o-the-night.
That was all Thursday night. Friday I dispatched. It was busy a lot of the time but I just kept my cool while pissing off half of the customers and all of the drivers.
You know my name look up the number.

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