yet another blog on cabbies

Today I learned the inner workings/dirty politics of cabbie-life in Cambridge from an insider (read: cabbie).

Conclusions:

1) Cabbies are still a-holes for refusing to answer any job other than a "good job", meaning, going to the airport or, say, Rhode Island. If you have boxes to transport from point A to point B and point A is within two miles of point B, you're not a "good job" and therefore screwed. Try it. I cannot get a cab to my house unless I'm going to the airport. I have waited over an hour. Nobody comes. My dissertation on public service, the fact that people who need short rides also need long rides, and good/considerate tipping for short rides, fell on deaf ears.

2) Ambassador-Brattle Taxi is as corrupt as expected, giving these "good jobs" only to friends of the dispatcher and issuing checks on empty bank accounts to the poor immigrants (read: non-friends of the dispatcher) who work for them and who don't know how to or don't want to complain. These checks are reimbursement for voucher rides - prepaid by companies. So, basically the companies are reimbursing Ambassador-Brattle for the submitted vouchers. Ambassador-Brattle is writing checks to cabbies. And cabbies are decorating their sunvisors with the checks because the money is "lost" somewhere in between this transaction. An after-effect to this: cabbies are now not taking voucher rides either, which will be an excellent impression when that company is trying to send the candidate for the super hard to fill VP job back to the airport and she misses her flight after having to hear a half hour bitch-fest about taking a voucher. (Yes, it's only 15 mins to the airport, but not if you look clueless and have a voucher.). Soon, the only way to get a cab to come to you will be to say you need to go to the airport and you're paying cash. Otherwise, grab one on the street and make them drive off before you say where you're going, but be prepared to hear major whining if you ask to go anywhere in the greater Boston area because that's not a good enough fare.

I empathize with the cabbies, I do. Nobody is living la dolce vita on taxicab income. But they make it awfully hard when they are pissed off that you're "only a $10 fare" and get on the radio to bitch about it to the dispatcher who said you were going somewhere farther. Empathy is wearing a little thin at that point. At that point, I don't care how much your taxi medallion costs ($2,200) or want to see and hold your worthless check ($625) as proof of Ambassador-Brattle as the Evil Empire. I'm with you. But why, pray tell, are we in the Ted Williams Tunnel? Answer me that, Mr. Cabbie. I'm trying to get to Harvard Square. From Kendall Square.

And no, I don't want extra blank receipts. Some of us aren't corrupt and trying to get what they can get. And if I were, I'd be a little more pleasant along the way. I swear, every cabbie around here is flat out miserable. There is one exception: West African cabbies. I don't know what it is, but they are so nice and friendly. I get where I'm going in a fairly straight line and a decent price. I get called "mama" or "princess" and where I'd typically be a little annoyed at this, somehow it sounds endearing. I think the West Africans should ban together and start their own taxi company - Mama Princess Cab Company. As for now, I've limited my use of taxis to a bare minimum. I can't contribute to this dysfunction anymore. I am withdrawing my dollars from this corrupt system. I will pack lighter. Plan ahead. Wear more sensible shoes.

Or more likely, I will be pinch-toed and late for work, but I will have justice. OK, blisters. I will have blisters. And justice.