Last Bits 7

Or…adventures with Drunk People Bits.

stratus

1. Yep, its time for an installment of “PRIVATE HIRE WITH CASEY!”

So anyway, I’m prefacing this one with a warning. If you don’t like tales of vomit, harsh language and drunk old women…steer off to prettier and happier lands right now.ย  A few bits o’ this comin’ your way. ๐Ÿ˜€

——————————-

Still here?

Otay!

So this normally doesn’t happen to me very often anymore. I switched out from the wild wacky-land of Taxi mayhem last year for the smoother, nicer pastures of “regular customers-ville”.ย  HOWEVER, I still take care of several bars up in my neck of the woods, and upon occasion they will load me up with, shall we say….people who most DEFINITELY shouldn’t be driving.

1a.

Strip bar called. Two ladies drinking with regular customer “XYZ” need a lift home. Can you get em’?

Sure says I. No problem.ย  I have 45 minutes until my next scheduled call…guy who needed to go to work. I roll on over, and the door guy walks em’ out.

These ladies aren’t strippers, folks….they are older. One in her 40’s and the other in her 60’s. They’ve been out partying with a mutual friend and ended up here… “SQUEEZIN’ the BOOBIES!” as one of em’ cheered when they piled in the car.

1b. I verified their destinations, and quoted the price for each as they were separate locations.ย  They agreed. (Of course they did, they were HAMMERED!…and my rates are lower than a cab.)

Off we go. About a block into the ride, the older lady (white hair, 60’ish) starts moaning.ย  I, ever vigilant, reach into my souvenir kit of anti-pukedom and pull out a bag , holding it out over my shoulder. The lady took the bag….

….says, “ohfuckme” and proceeds to throw up ON the bag.

Not in it.

On it.

Then she starts to woof all over herself and her companion, and rather than out the window which I’ve thoughtfully rolled down for her…as well as pulled over and unlocked the doors at pretty much light speed…she ignores me AND her friend and starts to talk about herself in the vein of what a “fuckin’ ol’ dipshit ahh am”…WHILE SHE IS STILL WOOFING HER COOKIES. Of course this spreads the mess around the back area even more. Her friend is freaking out and I am just staring at the mess wondering if I have time to clean it up in time for the work call.

It takes a few minutes, but she finally finishes up the tirade, and the upchuck (which is now occurring out the door that her friend managed to get open).

Calm ensues.

2. I look around the back area and say as calmly as possible,

“That is going to cost you a cleaning fee on top of the fare.”

The older puke-olympic lady looks up, her eyes suddenly sober as a judge. “Who tha FUCK are you anyway?” she demands as if she were a southern politician staring down a mere plebe.

I look right at her and say, “Ma’am I am the driver who is going to kick your sorry old ass out of this car right here in the middle of nowhere if you don’t agree with me. You better be thanking the stars that you’re not in a city cab.”

“And why would that be?” she retorts.

“Because it is a mandatory 100$ cleaning fee in those rides, or a ride to detox if you refuse…PLUS a bill from the city,” I respond.ย  “As it is, you’re…” I pause to look at what actually hit my car, “…looking at 35$ on top of your fare. Or you can get out and I’ll call the cops to report drunk people on the side of the road.ย  How is that for why?”

She pauses a beat, and I can see the interior sober person in those beady eyes calculating her situation.

“Oh now, we should all be just friendly. Of course I’ll take care of it.”

————— We drive to the first lady’s destination (the younger non-olympic-puker.). She quickly give me fare + a tip and says to her friend, “Now you tell the nice man where you’re going and pay him your part.”ย  She hops out of the car faster than I thought was possible in her condition.

I almost laughed as the very musketeer-like thought, “One for one and one for one!” passed through my brain.

I got the puker to her house, swiped her card, and as soon as the door slammed, I was off to the gas station to begin the task of cleaning up so my next customer wouldn’t gag.

Turns out, what she left in the car might as well have been just booze. They were that drunk.

Once the cleaning was complete, I rolled to the next call.

I felt all Cabbie-like again. Their 17$ ride turned into more than 50$ for me, so I’ll take it.

That is going to do it for Last Bits this edition. More than enough for this episode I’m thinking.

Be safe out there, and tip your servers/drivers/strippers/bartenders. They earn it.ย  ๐Ÿ™‚

p.s. that picture isn’t my car…but it might as well be. It is the same year/model/color/wheels/everything as the one I drive.ย  ๐Ÿ™‚

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