The fare that gets into your car and says, “Don’t worry, we’re not going very far.” Gee, that’s nice to know. Thanks for sharing.
Extended Stay Hotels. The fare, is either going to Walmart, Target or another Extended Stay.
Fares that continually burp, sneeze, cough or cut the cheese.
Morons that buy ten things at the gas station, then stand there and bitch about the price. Meanwhile you’re thinking to yourself, “Die you Bastard and get out of my frickin way, I got work to do!”
“Speed Bumps.” I’d personally like to execute the individual that came up with that idea.
Indians from, you guessed it, India. You pull up, they have five huge suit cases and they say, “You take us over there, yes? Over there is a quarter mile away and worth $3.85. They then pay you exactly $3.85.
The deadly combination of cell phone, SUV, and female that’s late for work. They’re vicious creatures!
Stop Lights! What a stupid idea! Whoever invented them never drove a cab. You have to stop at these stupid things and that costs time.
Photo Intersections. Big Brother’s one step closer and they keep adding them. Can you say, “Just another form of taxation?”
Those “STUPID” custom ring tones, where “YOU” demonstrate your total lack of music acumen. And “NO,” I’m not enjoying listening to 50 cent rap about drug dealers as I await your voice on the phone.
Me, trying to call our cab company and getting put on hold where you listen to the female voice say “We’re experiencing a high rate of calls and we’ll be with you as soon as possible.” Of course you’ve been sitting for over four hours and you haven’t had even one job. Ya, we’re busy alright! Busy dealing with morons!
The idiot that just has to pull into the lane in front of you, even though there’s only fourteen feet between you and the guy in front of you and then he stands on his breaks because there actually was only fourteen feet between you and the other guy. IDIOT!
The morons that run your company as they send out their stupid distracting messages telling you a winter storm is coming so “Be Careful!” The problem with messages like this is that particular storm came and went two days ago, you were very careful, except for now, because at this very moment you’re looking at the stupid message on the meter instead of out your front windshield.
G-String money! G-String money is any denomination of money that’s been badly abused, wadded, stepped on, and well, stuffed inn a G-String. Hey, cab drivers are respectable people and a crisp ten or twenty are in order here. We shouldn’t be required to say, “Jesus, what the hell did you do with that twenty, stop a nose bleed?”
The rich yahoo in the co-pilots seat that thinks he’s a better driver than you. You want to just pop him as he keeps up a steady list of verbal instructions, “Ya, turn here, ah you think there might be a quicker way, traffic’s pretty heavy don’t you think? Let’s take this exit, no, no stay on the freeway, it’s backed up, ah maybe the next exit? You know where we’re going right?” You just want to slap the taste out of his mouth as he shows off for the little lady and the other couple riding in the back seat. Speaking of which, the moron probably can’t get up off a toilet seat without stumbling!
You pull up and two guys are standing there with great big suit cases. You’re literally salivating when you ask them where they’re going and they say, “Western Union, I believe it’s close by.” Not a good moment for a cab driver and you’re left wiping the saliva off your face as you contemplate your $8.00 fare.
Idiots that call for a cab and then you spend the next ten minutes after arriving trying to find them. This ain’t hide and seek people, you called me, I didn’t call you.