I’ve had enough of the “me first” and the “you don’t count because you are ________” crowd. Last night was the final straw.

I am normally a pretty patient person while behind the wheel of a motor vehicle (with a couple of exceptions), and I usually give the other guy the benefit of the doubt. Not any more. I drive an SUV, and I used to do it with a small-car attitude – as in, you are in a hurry, go right ahead and speed past me and cut me off, I’ll back off and make allowances for you.

Last night, on the way home from Pastor’s house after watching a movie and enjoying pizza and fellowship, we stopped at the QT at Bethany Home and Grand. For those of you unfamiliar with Grand Avenue in Phoenix, it runs along side the ATSF Burlington tracks, at an angle, from 7th Ave and Van Buren out to northwest of town where it becomes US 60. After filling up TMBWitW‘s car, I pulled onto Grand to make the left onto Bethany and continue home. I got the green arrow, started the turn, and got honked at.

By the obliviot running the red light on Grand.

I had seen them starting across the intersection, after I made the turn, so I had made allowances to avoid a collision. I flashed my high beams at them (it was around 2100 hours and full dark) and received a few single digit salutes in return from the juvenile interior of the other car.

This really makes me wonder, just how entitled are people getting to feel? Do they really think they can disregard traffic control devices with impunity? Are they so brazen to think that they would get off scot-free if they were involved in (read: caused) a collision? What if it hadn’t been me, but some short tempered guy with a concealed weapon (legal in Arizona without a permit, BTW!) and a very low tolerance for jerks? True, this contradicts what I wrote about an armed society being a polite society – but then, it is a learning process. Maybe the kids in the car hadn’t learned about that yet. Maybe they haven’t been taught that running a red light is against the law. Maybe they haven’t learned that driving at night takes a different kind of concentration and awareness.

Maybe they are just dumb.

I can make allowances for a lot of things, but unless they have their “DUMB DRIVER ON BOARD” sticker displayed prominently, it’s tough to make an allowance for that.

My friend Greybeard just bought a motorcycle for commuting. Sure hope he doesn’t have the same kinds of drivers around him.

Ya’ll have a good day, I’m off to court to show support for my Pastor. The city of Phoenix is trying to tell him that he can’t have bible studies on his own property, and that the size of family gatherings is somehow limited. Prayers, please.

Chat ya later…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, don’t buy or breed cats or dogs while homeless pets die (spay, neuter & adopt a pet, one by one, until there are none), Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

Yup, raining here in the Valley of the Sun. I understand Flagstaff is expecting up to a foot of Global Warming (see #4) today, on top of the seven inches of Global Warming (see #4) they got on Sunday. Speaking of Sundays…

Did I tell you the one about NFC Sunday and the guy who should have lost his mancard privileges?

I had a cab on a 24 hour lease for the Sunday that the Cardinals played the Eagles for the NFC title. The “conventional wisdom” at the cage was that sitting at a cabstand at Westgate (where the University of Phoenix Stadium is located) (i know, naming a “professional” stadium for a college…) would be the big money. Knowing that the “conventionally wise” drivers would be doing just that, I stayed away from Westgate, on the theory (proven time and again, by the way) that while all the cabs are jockeying for places at Westgate, no one was available to pick up all the rides wanting to get anywhere else. So, I was busy from the time I got out of church until I turned the cab in on Monday morning. At any rate –

I had taken a short break about 1500, since I was near the home 20, and grabbed a bite to eat. I then got back on the stick, and cruised over towards Westgate, about three miles from my house to begin with. I was at the corner of Glendale Avenue and 91st Avenue when a 20something guy flagged me down. Geekboy jumped in, and said that he needed to pick up his girlfriend. He was on the phone with girlfriend, and kept chatting and cajoling her to hurry. Where was she? On Maryland Avenue, supposedly meeting him at 91st Ave. Maryland is one of the streets that got extended into the former cotton fields to provide more access and egress for Westgate and the resultant development around it. I couldn’t go south on 91st, since it was the fourth quarter and traffic control had already started setting it up for mass exit. I turned around, went to 83rd, and dropped south to Maryland there. An officer was working traffic control there, also, keeping non-residents from cutting through the neighborhood. I told him my fare wanted to pick up his girlfriend at 91st and Maryland. The nice officer let us through. (i’m pretty sure he thought i meant that geekboy’s girlfriend lived in the neighborhood in the vicinity of 91 and maryland, but that was not my concern) Once I got over to the other side, we saw that traffic control was not allowing traffic straight through – you had to turn north, so I pulled over to the curb. All this time, geekboy (and i’m being kind – he musta been born in the ugly tree, and hit several branches when he fell out) is on the phone, telling “Susie” to hurry and meet us – he had a cab, and we were sitting at 91 and Maryland…I know it’s a long way, but run, babe, because we hafta move soon…

The officer working traffic control on the west side of the neighborhood sauntered over. I told him we were waiting for geekboy’s girlfriend, and she should be right there soon. He told me he would work with me – I couldn’t sit on the curb like I was, but if I pulled up to the light I didn’t have to go through the light unless someone came up behind me. I thanked him, and pulled up to the stop line. Soon after, a vehicle pulled in behind me (of course!). I had to move, so I went north a little bit to the next break in the traffic cones, glanced around, and u-turned back to Maryland – we were going to get in!

I made the turn in at Maryland, and was cruising along in the single lane of cone-marked access allowed, when geekboy said “There she is! Hey, Susie!” She was walking along the other side of the street, oblivious to the BRIGHT GREEN CAB that geekboy was hanging out of while talking to geekboy on the phone. I found a spot where the cones were a little spread apart, and pulled another u-turn. I am so glad the police were paying attention to the cones, and not me…

I pulled up next to oblivious girl – I mean, Susie – and geekboy jumps out, gets her attention, and they start talking about how she wants to stay and party at Westgate and he wants to go to their place. I have to interject here, though – she was not in his class. Actually, he was nowhere near HER class, based on looks – she was a drop-dead, stonecoldfox, good looking kid. You know – makes the cheer squad on looks alone type. I figure either he was a really good kisser (wink wink nudge nudge) or his credit line made Bill Gates look poor. I digress.

She wanted to stay and party, he wanted to go to their place. Why? It turns out that the Eagles were enjoying theire one and only lead in the game, and he was upset that the Cardinals had blown their massive lead. He kept telling me to go to 43rd Avenue and Union Hills (a pretty nice fare from Westgate, on top of the running in circles we had already done) and she kept telling him that she wanted to stay and party. All this time I was still sitting at the curb, and their argument was running about 45 cents per minute. Finally, he got huffy, told her to get in, and as she was getting in the back he got in the front seat. I took off, turning north on 91st and hitting a red light at Glendale, where the argument peaked. She said “Fine. Just let me out here, and you can go where ever.” “Oh, come on, Susie – don’t be like that!” The light turned green, and I started across the intersection.

She decided to assert her independence at that particular point in time, and opened her door – as we were accelerating across Glendale. I hollered at her to close the door and wait until I pulled over – I aimed for the bus pull out on the other side. No sooner had I pulled in there that she was out and gone. He was sitting there, looking all hurt, and kind of crying a little bit. I thought to myself “wow. what a weird chain of events.” Then, out loud – “Uh, where to, then?”

Being all butthurt, he choked out “83rd and Cactus. I wanna go to my parents house.”

When I got to the house he directed me to, the meter read $32 and change. He gave me two twenties, jumped out, and ran to the front door. I left, thinking I should have told him that the meter was $32 and his man card.

Still, not bad for a half hour’s work and I still had the rest of the night to make lots of runs – which I did.

Chat ya later…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, listen to The O Word on BlogTalkRadio, Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

I had an unusual fare Saturday evening. (not that there are “usual” fares when you drive a cab, but…) I picked up this lady who had called for a cab rather than drive home from a bar in Peoria. She is a bit older than I am, and she had very securely tied one on. She was unusual in a couple of aspects.

First – she declared that she called a cab only because she didn’t want to drive all the way home. Not that she would ever face a DUI ticket – she claimed to have diplomatic immunity (New Zealand citizen). I kept my mouth shut.

Second – she started rambling about really enjoying her evening out, since it was more a trip down memory lane than anything else. Seems she and her recently exed husband used to hang at the bar where she was pickled picked up. Everyone kept asking her where “the big guy” was, and she says she patiently explained the most intimate details of the divorce to one and all, including the fact that her big brute of a VietNam Veteran Marine husband of hers just couldn’t seem to handle his physical failings – the strokes just really “creeped [her] out.” I kept my mouth shut.

Third – she then tangented off to the new administration. (My thoughts on this subject are posted in the comment section of Texas Fred’s post, “MY Free Speech Regarding Barack Hussein Obama“) Her main point was that she could not understand how in the world the Americans could just stand by and let this happen to their country. I posited that we didn’t let it happen, so much as we had it rammed down our throats by the Defeatist, Elitist Media (h/t: BZ). She insisted that we “let it happen” so I went back to keeping my mouth shut.

Fourth – and this is the kicker – she waxed poetic about her adopted country (here in the US of A) and how she longed for the old days when she was in high school and college, and “they” would all gather together and demonstrate against the administration, that nasty war they had saddled us with, and generally Made Things Happen.

I could no longer keep my mouth shut.

We were near her address, so I opened up a bit. I told her in no uncertain terms that her attitude about the citizens of this country was misplaced – the anger should be towards her post-hippie, leftist leaning groupies from her college years, since they are the ones shouting longest and loudest about how The Messiah, TEH ONE, this Halfrican Wunderkind is going to Save This Country from itself.

I lit into her about her attitude about her husband – how as a Marine, he was used to being the one who took care of others, and abandoning him just because he was having trouble adjusting to being the one who was being taken care OF was extremely selfish of HER.

I then told her in no uncertain terms that BRAGGING about demonstrating against VietNam and helping the enemy by being the catalyst to subverting the drive of this country was just out and out STUPID, and I bet out loud that she also thought the War on Terror was a waste of time, too – when she started getting upset that I had attacked this un-named bastion of her belief, I had had enough. I told her that it was HER attitude that was leading this country down the well-paved path to Hell, not the conservatives who were trying to keep this country’s head above water. She got kind of pissy after that – after all, I had just killed her buzz – and she paid her fare and stomped into her townhouse.

For some reason, I didn’t get a tip from her.

However, I was led to consider some of what she had said. Yes, we do have a socialist politician in the White House now – but we will get through this. One thing she kept on about was how the Americans she ran into were all “oh, this will pass” and didn’t appear to be too worried about our future. My reply to that was “Do not mistake my calm demeanor for not caring, anymore than you would mistake a duck on the river as not being very active.” In her drunken state, she missed the analogy. But know this – even though we appear to be calm in person, blogs such as most of the ones you will find in my sidebar are an indication (to me, anyway) that this country’s patriots are far from complacent about the direction this country is headed.

I must say that once her townhouse sells (good luck with that, in this market) and her current position is completed, that this country will perhaps be better off without her attitude – which I cannot peg as anti-American so much as pro-defeatist-American.

On a side note – I’ll try to get more cab stories up. Remind me to tell you about the two guys I picked up in The District who got to walk home after all…

I’ll chat with you more later.

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, listen to The O Word on BlogTalkRadio, Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

Yes, I said cab rider – because some people missed the classes, and they all seem to end up riding with me at one point in time or another:

Rule Number One: NEVER – no, ALWAYS speak in a clear voice. This includes the initial call to the cab company requesting a cab (see rule number three down the page a bit), and when you get in the cab to tell the driver where you are going.

Rule Number Two: ALWAYS acknowledge the existence of the human being who is driving the cab. That is the minimum requirement. The cabbie should be greeting you in a cheerful voice, genuinely happy to see you in the back of the cab – hey, you are the money! Please be gracious enough to return the greeting, even if you have to fake it. We can take a hint, and will not bother you again until it’s time for you to exit the cab.

Rule Number Three: COMMUNICATION is vital. The more information the cab company and the cab driver have, the better your experience with the cab company and the driver will be. Pouring yourself into the back seat and slurring the directions home is a sure way to get a couple extra laps around the town square while you sleep off some of your buzz. We know the area – we have map books for the parts we aren’t sure about – give us an exact address and we will make sure you get home safe, happy, and as inexpensively as possible. When you call the cab company, don’t be irritated at all the question you are being asked. We’re trying to make sure you have an optimally safe ride, and that you will want us to drive you again, in the future.

Rule Number Four: TIP YOUR DRIVER. The minimum tip is 15% or one dollar, whichever is greater. Do not, under any circumstance, hand us just enough to cover the fare (for example, if the meter is $4.70, and you hand us a five) and tell us to “keep the change!” Odds are, you will be given your exact change and told that you need it more than we do. If you cannot tip a minimum of 15% on top of the meter, pay us the meter and whatever else, and say “I’m sorry, I don’t seem to have enough for a proper tip.” We will pretend you mean well, and we won’t sling too much gravel at you as we leave. (by the way, a dollar a bag on top of the 15% is customary. really. ask the skycap next time you are at the airport, or the bell hop next time you are at the hotel.)

Rule Number Two (A): Now that you know how others tip us, do not be too shocked if you should happen to detect a bit of faking on our part – hey, we just got a 30 cent tip on a $4.70 meter! I gotta run to the bank and get that deposited, to take advantage of an extra day’s interest! (in case you are wondering, the minimum tip on a $4.70 meter is about 70 cents. a buck-thirty would go a long way toward cementing your place in my hall of fame. that minimum is if i honk as i pull up and wait until you are fully in the vehicle before dropping the flag and gassing it. if i get out, help you load your luggage or groceries, hold the door for you, make sure you are seated before closing said door, and wait until we are on the street before dropping the flag, i think a thicker tip would be in line – but that’s just me.) (true story – i had one customer who had a $4.45 meter, gave me four singles and two quarters, and waited for the nickel back. i told her while it might say driver only carries $10.00 in change, it doesn’t mean that it’s in change. she was very upset with me. i decided she could unload her own groceries.)

OK – I feel much better now.

Hey – you know what you get when you give a stripper a ride home?

A bunch of singles…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, listen to The O Word on BlogTalkRadio, Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

214

I mean, I have so much rolling around in my head – I doubt all of it will get written.

Saturday evening, I got my first cab at about 1645 hours. When I went out to check it and get it ready to go, I had to put air in the left front tire – and I wasn’t sure it would stay there. Once I got on the road, I could hear the “tik-tik-tik” of something metallic in the tire, so I pulled into a parking lot and looked it over – sure enough, a nail in the tread. I took that one back, and got a second cab by 1715 hours. First call was to a bar on 83rd Ave. and Indian School. A lady (who apparently is an early-evening drinker) needed a ride home. When she tried to get into the back seat, she couldn’t. I mean she just could NOT get her body to work right so she could climb into the back seat. She asked if she could sit in front, and I told her yes. I went around, opened the front door, cleared my stuff off the seat, and held the door for her. Now, the cab company policy is that the driver is not to touch the passenger. That means that the passenger is supposed to be able to get themselves in and out of the cab on their own. If they need help due to a medical condition, then the passenger is supposed to contact a non-emergency medical transport company. At any rate – this lady was having a hard time getting into the front seat, also. Don’t get me wrong – she could walk under her own power – she just couldn’t climb onto the seat. At one point, I noticed that the exertions had caused her to urinate in her jeans. Yes, she was working that hard to climb into the cab.

Did I mention that she is a little person? A dwarf – midget – whatever they call themselves.

She finally got herself situated kind of oddly – so that her legs were in the area of the floorboards, and her upper body was on the seat – and she was pretty much laying, face down, on the front seat of the car after fifteen minutes of attempting to get in. She gave me the address, and we were off. Once we arrived at her house (about seven blocks from the bar) it took her another five minutes to get back OUT of the car. She was, however, very gracious, and tipped nicely (the fare was $5.00 and she added two). I managed to keep a straight face until I was at least a block away, and then I just couldn’t help but laugh until the next call came in…

Maggie Thornton cross-posted a piece on global warming on her own Notebook and on Reject the U.N. regarding Global Warming. You’ve all heard how 2500 distinguished scientists have backed the warming models used in the dire predictions – have you heard that 500 of them have since retracted their support? Or that more than 31,000 scientists have signed a petition stating that all the hot air about Anthropogenic Global Warming is just that – a bunch of hot air? I wonder why the MSM hasn’t published any articles about the group that is fifteen times larger…

From Wild Phil comes news that there is a new wine designed especially for seniors. From his e-mail:

California vintners in the Napa Valley area, which primarily produce Pinot Blanc, Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio wines, have developed a new hybrid grape that acts as an anti-diuretic.
It is expected to reduce the number of trips older people have to make to the bathroom during the night.

The new wine will be marketed as

PINO MORE.

I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE!

Perhaps they can start serving it at 83rd and Indian School first…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, listen to The O Word on BlogTalkRadio, Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!