Reactionary

I had to work Sunday. Working weekends is the worst, not only because of the weirdness of being at work when everyone else is off, but because they’re only 12 hour shifts (to cut down on the number of people who need to be there) and everything is unscheduled. You either run all daw or sit around and do nothing. It was a run all day kind of a shift. it had been so bad that I decided to treat myself and take a cab home even if isn’t very far from home. It’s been cold and I didn’t want to deal with it.

As soon as I got in the car, the driver told me it was his first day driving a cab and he didn’t know where the cross street was. I told him how to get there in fairly easy terms to anyone who’s at all familiar with Center City. It isn’t unusual to not know where that cross street is… but anyone with any knowledge of the city should have been able to figure it out by what I told him. And then I realized it was worse than I thought when he missed the turn to the expressway. There’s a difference between being a beginner and being entirely clueless. I tried to make the best of it and told him to turn north (isn’t it basic to know the prime directions in a grid pattern city?) on an easy-to-remember number street. He missed that, too, and we ended up on the city’s main atery which is what I’d been trying to avoid. Then, he won’t take a left turn (I know it’s forbidden but everyone does it) and eneded up making a huge loop through seedy Chinatown to get back on the other side. I’d had it. Once he got somewhat close, i had him drop me on the corner. That was the longest cab ride on record.

I forgot which cab company it was. I wish I remembered. they should give their new recruits basic instruction on downtown and the main expressways. He didn’t know anything, besides following the guy in front of him. In London, cabbies take their jobs seriously and have to pass a test on the city’s layout and the best way to get from here to there before they can drive a cab themselves. It’s called the Knowledge and it’s what makes London’s black cabs the world’s best. I’m not saying everyone should be that way (though it would be nice if they were), but basic knowledge like where north, south, east, and west are and where the highway lets off should be required. As a cab rider, it isn’t my job to tell the driver where to go. They should know. That’s why I pay the exhorbitant prices. What if that guy picks someone up who’s new in the city, a tourist, or a guy here on business? He shouldn’t be on the street.

I shouldn’t have paid the fare since it ran over by about $4 because of the turns through Chinatown but I kind of felt bad for him. If I remembered the company, I’d report it, though.

Posted on February 27th, 2006 under Life •  Print •  Email • RSS 2.0 feed • Both comments and pings are currently closed