I have waited until the last possible moment to renew my cab permit, which expires at the end of the month. I have the drug test forms, but I still have to go and get it done. No worries there -- no drugs. I don't even drink. Cigarettes are my only vice, and they're still (barely) legal. I have to get the drug test, then hound them to make sure they faxed a copy to the city, then get my H6 (copy of driving record from the DMV), then, when all the paperwork is in, pay a small amount to get my new permit.
Then I'll try to renew my navy base pass. That took several months of fucking around last year, and I expect nothing different this time. The navy is a *unique* organization. They attract some of the best people, have a massive budget, and have some of the best equipment and technology in the world. It was the U.S. military, after all, that gave us the internet in September 1969. But they can't follow simple, well established, agreed upon rules for giving out a base pass.
Showing posts with label paperwork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paperwork. Show all posts
Monday, March 24, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Credit cards are coming
The cab company owner just announced that all drivers must check in with HQ to get equipped to accept credit cards by the end of February. We will be given carbon forms and mechanical swipe machines. There will be no way to check, instantly, if the card is declined or accepted. It will take two weeks to get our money, and it will be placed against the next lease payment. We also pay HQ a 10% fee on all transactions.
I used to accept cards through another driver who had a merchant account with his bank. After a few declines I quit accepting them. Also, I got tired of all the imbeciles who wanted to use a CC for a ride across the street.
CCs are an absurdly bad deal for drivers. We shouldn't have to accept them. Also, it's not in our contract, so a few drivers are considering refusing, and then suing if their contracts get canceled (fired). I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet. If we have to sue and win, keeping our jobs, we'll be given the worst cars in the fleet and suffer untold other miseries. On the other hand, declines only represent a small percentage, and most CC rides are reasonable. To make a stand or not to make a stand, that is the question...
I'll probably just swallow the angst and take the credit cards. It's not THAT big of a deal, and the owner tends to remember people who accept new rules. I have a general policy of going along with employers. It's my option to quit and start my own company any time I wish.
I used to accept cards through another driver who had a merchant account with his bank. After a few declines I quit accepting them. Also, I got tired of all the imbeciles who wanted to use a CC for a ride across the street.
CCs are an absurdly bad deal for drivers. We shouldn't have to accept them. Also, it's not in our contract, so a few drivers are considering refusing, and then suing if their contracts get canceled (fired). I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet. If we have to sue and win, keeping our jobs, we'll be given the worst cars in the fleet and suffer untold other miseries. On the other hand, declines only represent a small percentage, and most CC rides are reasonable. To make a stand or not to make a stand, that is the question...
I'll probably just swallow the angst and take the credit cards. It's not THAT big of a deal, and the owner tends to remember people who accept new rules. I have a general policy of going along with employers. It's my option to quit and start my own company any time I wish.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Eventful afternoon
I paid the entire lease today, $600, because I forgot that it was Tom's last day. What can I say? Andrew and Tom are solid guys, but we're not friends. Other than a weekly exchange of cash for the lease, I don't pay any attention to them.
Since I forgot to get Vitao's money (our new Brazilian cab partner), it fell to me to cover it. No problem there. I can get the money later. I've known Vitao for two years -- he's already a driver. Andrew snatched him away from his current partner. Not to go on a tangent, but I was sure we would never find anyone who wanted to drive Tom's hours, which were Monday through Thursday, 4 a.m. to 2 p.m. But Andrew managed it. I owe him for that.
While I was at HQ the owner went out to inspect the Falcon, and he pointed out a scrape on the right rear quarter panel. He took Polaroids of the damage. I had never seen it before. He said a South Bay hotel called this morning and reported that car 95 had scraped a sign. Tom was driving this morning. He didn't stop, and he didn't report the damage to me or the owner. That means any of the three drivers could get the bill if the hotel hadn't reported him. What a bastard.
I whipped out the cell and was about to call him to rip him a new one, but the owner said to wait a day or two. He wants to give him a chance to call and admit what he did. So we're waiting.
When I was ready to leave HQ, my car wouldn't start. Since the owner was there, I explained that the mystery electrical problem plaguing the car for six months still hasn't been fixed. Something is draining the battery. He called Fred, our mechanic, and he came over straightaway (the shop is at a different location than HQ).
He put a new battery in the car and said it would be fine. Now that's odd, considering this was the third new battery he's installed, all in search of the elusive problem.
He admitted the last two times he pulled junk batteries out of retired cars. He told me they were new at the time. He even laughed about it. My cab partners and I have been getting jump starts at least four times a week for six months, in less than convenient places, all because he was too cheap to replace a battery. There isn't much I can do to force people to behave well, so I told him I didn't appreciate it, and shrugged it off.
While at HQ I filled out another work request for the thumping coming from the front left, which didn't go away after the brake job earlier this week. I tried to copy the form, in case I get in an accident and the company tries to say they were never notified, but the copier wasn't working.
I also asked the owner about the latest problem with the Navy. They claimed I wasn't on The List. The owner rolled his eyes. "Yes, you are. I've been over this time and time again with these people." He said he'd make some calls and fix it. Meanwhile, the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan is one mile off the coast, waiting to bring more than 5,000 sailors into port tomorrow at 10 a.m. and I still don't have a base permit.
I tell ya, some times this job feels like a cartoon. Competence is a very scarce commodity in the taxi business.
Back outside, I showed Fred a rear tire that looked low, and he had me follow him to the shop. The shop looks just like the place in the old TV show, "Taxi". I thought about getting some photos, but Fred would ask a bunch of questions that I don't feel like answering. I'll swing by some other time; perhaps Fred won't be around.
This was close to the shop
While Fred fixed a leak in the tire, I asked how the brake job went the other day (I already knew, but I wanted to hear what he said). "I rebuilt the caliper and it didn't turn out too well." So he got a remanufactured one from a parts store, but forgot to install a copper washer, so it leaked. That's why Tom had to return the car twice for more work (the brakes had gone out while driving again, for a total of three times).
Fred thought all of this was funny. I think it's miraculous nobody has been killed.
I asked him about tire pressure (I asked long ago and promptly forgot) and he said the rears have to be at 35psi by law so the meter is accurate. The fronts, he said, "should be at 45". When I inquired as to why so much higher, he said that tires last longer at higher pressure, but the car doesn't ride quite as well. "And we don't care about comfort -- we want them to last."
You know what that means. I stopped at the first gas station and deflated the fronts to 35. My cab partners and I pay $600 per week -- that's about $2600 per month -- for the car. For that kind of money, it will be as comfortable as possible.
As I was leaving the shop I remembered there's a Chipotle close by, and took advantage by getting a mammoth vegetarian burrito -- black beans, rice, cheese, guacamole. I wolfed it down in record time and was on the streets in time for a nice dinner rush.
Since I forgot to get Vitao's money (our new Brazilian cab partner), it fell to me to cover it. No problem there. I can get the money later. I've known Vitao for two years -- he's already a driver. Andrew snatched him away from his current partner. Not to go on a tangent, but I was sure we would never find anyone who wanted to drive Tom's hours, which were Monday through Thursday, 4 a.m. to 2 p.m. But Andrew managed it. I owe him for that.
While I was at HQ the owner went out to inspect the Falcon, and he pointed out a scrape on the right rear quarter panel. He took Polaroids of the damage. I had never seen it before. He said a South Bay hotel called this morning and reported that car 95 had scraped a sign. Tom was driving this morning. He didn't stop, and he didn't report the damage to me or the owner. That means any of the three drivers could get the bill if the hotel hadn't reported him. What a bastard.
I whipped out the cell and was about to call him to rip him a new one, but the owner said to wait a day or two. He wants to give him a chance to call and admit what he did. So we're waiting.
When I was ready to leave HQ, my car wouldn't start. Since the owner was there, I explained that the mystery electrical problem plaguing the car for six months still hasn't been fixed. Something is draining the battery. He called Fred, our mechanic, and he came over straightaway (the shop is at a different location than HQ).
He put a new battery in the car and said it would be fine. Now that's odd, considering this was the third new battery he's installed, all in search of the elusive problem.
He admitted the last two times he pulled junk batteries out of retired cars. He told me they were new at the time. He even laughed about it. My cab partners and I have been getting jump starts at least four times a week for six months, in less than convenient places, all because he was too cheap to replace a battery. There isn't much I can do to force people to behave well, so I told him I didn't appreciate it, and shrugged it off.
While at HQ I filled out another work request for the thumping coming from the front left, which didn't go away after the brake job earlier this week. I tried to copy the form, in case I get in an accident and the company tries to say they were never notified, but the copier wasn't working.
I also asked the owner about the latest problem with the Navy. They claimed I wasn't on The List. The owner rolled his eyes. "Yes, you are. I've been over this time and time again with these people." He said he'd make some calls and fix it. Meanwhile, the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan is one mile off the coast, waiting to bring more than 5,000 sailors into port tomorrow at 10 a.m. and I still don't have a base permit.
I tell ya, some times this job feels like a cartoon. Competence is a very scarce commodity in the taxi business.
Back outside, I showed Fred a rear tire that looked low, and he had me follow him to the shop. The shop looks just like the place in the old TV show, "Taxi". I thought about getting some photos, but Fred would ask a bunch of questions that I don't feel like answering. I'll swing by some other time; perhaps Fred won't be around.
This was close to the shop
While Fred fixed a leak in the tire, I asked how the brake job went the other day (I already knew, but I wanted to hear what he said). "I rebuilt the caliper and it didn't turn out too well." So he got a remanufactured one from a parts store, but forgot to install a copper washer, so it leaked. That's why Tom had to return the car twice for more work (the brakes had gone out while driving again, for a total of three times).
Fred thought all of this was funny. I think it's miraculous nobody has been killed.
I asked him about tire pressure (I asked long ago and promptly forgot) and he said the rears have to be at 35psi by law so the meter is accurate. The fronts, he said, "should be at 45". When I inquired as to why so much higher, he said that tires last longer at higher pressure, but the car doesn't ride quite as well. "And we don't care about comfort -- we want them to last."
You know what that means. I stopped at the first gas station and deflated the fronts to 35. My cab partners and I pay $600 per week -- that's about $2600 per month -- for the car. For that kind of money, it will be as comfortable as possible.
As I was leaving the shop I remembered there's a Chipotle close by, and took advantage by getting a mammoth vegetarian burrito -- black beans, rice, cheese, guacamole. I wolfed it down in record time and was on the streets in time for a nice dinner rush.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Sunday
It has been an interesting day. At 2:00 p.m. I went out to the street in front of my house and my cab was not there, as it should have been. I called Andrew, the morning driver, and he didn't answer his phone. So I called HQ, and they said the Millennium Falcon lost its brakes this morning, and there are no more cars available.
The Falcon
Apparently three cars broke down this morning, with mine being the last. Since there are only three cars in reserve, we are out of luck.
I decided to take today and tomorrow off, instead of Mon and Tues.
The unsettling part of all this is that I notified HQ in writing more than three weeks ago that there is a problem with the car. I also called the owner and spoke with him in person to discuss the problem. Plus, Tom, our third driver, discussed the problem with Fred, the mechanic.
We made three attempts to get the car fixed; in person, on the phone, and in writing. And the problem didn't get fixed, leaving Andrew to suffer a brake failure while driving.
Since my civilian vehicle is down, as well, I had to call a cab to go downtown for coffee and to buy some books and things. I called Silver Cab, and waited 45 minutes before calling them back to ask where my cab might be. They said the dispatcher forgot to send for a car. It was a full hour before I got my cab.
When the driver arrived, he tried to complain to me that I should have instructed the dispatcher on how to get to my house, because it's difficult to find. His car smelled strongly of body odor, and it was filthy inside and out.
Never again will I use Silver Cab.
I had a nice lunch and then some coffee at a downtown Starbucks on 5th and F. There are five Starbucks in the Gaslamp Quarter; it's a plague of biblical proportions. After that I bought the "AP Manual of Style" at Borders book store on 6th and F. I will try to clean up my writing. I already have "The Economist Style Manual".
Starbucks, looking west
I tried to find "Bombardiers", a fiction book I read many years ago. Borders didn't have it, unfortunately. They did have about 7,000 small children running around, yelling and running into people like it was Disneyland. I don't dislike children, I just dislike being near them.
"Bombardiers" was written by Po Bronson, who turned his experience as a stock broker into a novel -- and it's fantastic, by the way. It's almost as funny as "A Confederacy of Dunces".
I've been considering turning my taxi experience into a novel (don't laugh; sillier things have been done), but I can't think of good ideas for structuring the thing. Perhaps I can get some ideas from Bronson.
I flagged an independent yellow cab on 5th Ave for the return trip home. It was called Curtis Cab, and it was a pristine Mercury Marquis with leather seats and all the options -- cruise control, electronic dash, electronic compass built into the rear view mirror, electric seats, etc. It makes the Millennium Falcon look like a relic from the Bronze Age.
The driver -- I forget his name -- said the owner bought it in 2000, with 35,000 miles, for $3,000. That's a steal. Since then they have had two flat tires with it. That's it. It now has 145,000 miles.
I had him stop at 7-11 so I could buy a 2-liter bottle of Coca Cola, a sixer of Sam Adams Summer Ale, two packs of Marlboros, and a bag of ice. With two days off in a row and some spectacular things waiting for me on DVR, I'll need all that stuff to make it through.
On the DVR: Formula 1 race from Bahrain, the American LeMans from Long Beach, NASCAR from Texas, the GP2 race from Bahrain, and the ChampCar series from Long Beach.
The Falcon
Apparently three cars broke down this morning, with mine being the last. Since there are only three cars in reserve, we are out of luck.
I decided to take today and tomorrow off, instead of Mon and Tues.
The unsettling part of all this is that I notified HQ in writing more than three weeks ago that there is a problem with the car. I also called the owner and spoke with him in person to discuss the problem. Plus, Tom, our third driver, discussed the problem with Fred, the mechanic.
We made three attempts to get the car fixed; in person, on the phone, and in writing. And the problem didn't get fixed, leaving Andrew to suffer a brake failure while driving.
Since my civilian vehicle is down, as well, I had to call a cab to go downtown for coffee and to buy some books and things. I called Silver Cab, and waited 45 minutes before calling them back to ask where my cab might be. They said the dispatcher forgot to send for a car. It was a full hour before I got my cab.
When the driver arrived, he tried to complain to me that I should have instructed the dispatcher on how to get to my house, because it's difficult to find. His car smelled strongly of body odor, and it was filthy inside and out.
Never again will I use Silver Cab.
I had a nice lunch and then some coffee at a downtown Starbucks on 5th and F. There are five Starbucks in the Gaslamp Quarter; it's a plague of biblical proportions. After that I bought the "AP Manual of Style" at Borders book store on 6th and F. I will try to clean up my writing. I already have "The Economist Style Manual".
Starbucks, looking west
I tried to find "Bombardiers", a fiction book I read many years ago. Borders didn't have it, unfortunately. They did have about 7,000 small children running around, yelling and running into people like it was Disneyland. I don't dislike children, I just dislike being near them.
"Bombardiers" was written by Po Bronson, who turned his experience as a stock broker into a novel -- and it's fantastic, by the way. It's almost as funny as "A Confederacy of Dunces".
I've been considering turning my taxi experience into a novel (don't laugh; sillier things have been done), but I can't think of good ideas for structuring the thing. Perhaps I can get some ideas from Bronson.
I flagged an independent yellow cab on 5th Ave for the return trip home. It was called Curtis Cab, and it was a pristine Mercury Marquis with leather seats and all the options -- cruise control, electronic dash, electronic compass built into the rear view mirror, electric seats, etc. It makes the Millennium Falcon look like a relic from the Bronze Age.
The driver -- I forget his name -- said the owner bought it in 2000, with 35,000 miles, for $3,000. That's a steal. Since then they have had two flat tires with it. That's it. It now has 145,000 miles.
I had him stop at 7-11 so I could buy a 2-liter bottle of Coca Cola, a sixer of Sam Adams Summer Ale, two packs of Marlboros, and a bag of ice. With two days off in a row and some spectacular things waiting for me on DVR, I'll need all that stuff to make it through.
On the DVR: Formula 1 race from Bahrain, the American LeMans from Long Beach, NASCAR from Texas, the GP2 race from Bahrain, and the ChampCar series from Long Beach.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Monkey wrenches
I'm in the middle of my weekend, and already I've received two pieces of bad news.
First, I got a call from Tom this morning. He's one of the morning shift drivers I share the Falcon with. He announced he's quitting to attend college. I'm happy for him, but now my lease will probably increase dramatically. We have a three-way lease arrangement, and finding someone who wants to fill Tom's hours will be almost impossible.
Secondly, I stopped by the 32nd Street Naval base for the fifth time and walked away without a renewed base permit. My record is intact at 0 for 5. Today they said I was already issued my new permit, and that's false. I've wasted a lot of time and fuel in useless attempts to get it, but have failed each and every time. After much shoulder shrugging, they said I can't get a new permit because my name isn't on "the list". They spoke of it in hushed tones, as if this list has some magical properties, or if they spoke too loudly it might vanish.
I asked a series of questions, each met with, "I don't know."
+ How do I get on the list?
+ Who maintains the list?
+ Is there someone I can call or see to learn more about the list?
+ Why was I issued a base permit two months ago, but am now having so much trouble?
+ Why did my original permit expire after only two months?
They were only able to tell me where they get the list -- Building 1. They don't know where that is, or if it's on this base or another one, or who might be working there, or what kind of office is there. All they knew, three guys in total, was that my name doesn't appear on a paper list sitting on the counter.
I'm sad to say this, but I must. It is a fucking miracle we ever win wars. I'm almost convinced it's accidental (or incidental). A simple administrative process is so poorly run, it takes my breath away. How can they possibly conduct a war, with all the logistics, complex systems, and multiple variables that constantly change?
Now I'm faced with a decision. Do I take the Navy's message to heart, and give up on driving the thousands of sailors needing transportation? That would be a shame considering the largest carrier in the history of the world, the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan, is nuking its way towards port right now, with nearly 7,000 people who will want rides. Or do I keep trying to get the permit?
It's FANTASTICALLY frustrating, considering I have already passed all criminal background checks and multiple drug screens. My driving record is flawless, too.
I'm leaning towards throwing in the towel. This is some kind of sick joke. Don't they realize they get something out of this, too?
First, I got a call from Tom this morning. He's one of the morning shift drivers I share the Falcon with. He announced he's quitting to attend college. I'm happy for him, but now my lease will probably increase dramatically. We have a three-way lease arrangement, and finding someone who wants to fill Tom's hours will be almost impossible.
Secondly, I stopped by the 32nd Street Naval base for the fifth time and walked away without a renewed base permit. My record is intact at 0 for 5. Today they said I was already issued my new permit, and that's false. I've wasted a lot of time and fuel in useless attempts to get it, but have failed each and every time. After much shoulder shrugging, they said I can't get a new permit because my name isn't on "the list". They spoke of it in hushed tones, as if this list has some magical properties, or if they spoke too loudly it might vanish.
I asked a series of questions, each met with, "I don't know."
+ How do I get on the list?
+ Who maintains the list?
+ Is there someone I can call or see to learn more about the list?
+ Why was I issued a base permit two months ago, but am now having so much trouble?
+ Why did my original permit expire after only two months?
They were only able to tell me where they get the list -- Building 1. They don't know where that is, or if it's on this base or another one, or who might be working there, or what kind of office is there. All they knew, three guys in total, was that my name doesn't appear on a paper list sitting on the counter.
I'm sad to say this, but I must. It is a fucking miracle we ever win wars. I'm almost convinced it's accidental (or incidental). A simple administrative process is so poorly run, it takes my breath away. How can they possibly conduct a war, with all the logistics, complex systems, and multiple variables that constantly change?
Now I'm faced with a decision. Do I take the Navy's message to heart, and give up on driving the thousands of sailors needing transportation? That would be a shame considering the largest carrier in the history of the world, the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan, is nuking its way towards port right now, with nearly 7,000 people who will want rides. Or do I keep trying to get the permit?
It's FANTASTICALLY frustrating, considering I have already passed all criminal background checks and multiple drug screens. My driving record is flawless, too.
I'm leaning towards throwing in the towel. This is some kind of sick joke. Don't they realize they get something out of this, too?
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Town Clown tonight
I'm getting all short rides today. Mostly tourists, two by two, going 10 blocks or less. Some days are like this...
Before I came out I stopped by the 32nd St. Navy base to renew my base permit, but I was 10 minutes too late. That will be my last bit of administrative mumbo jumbo for a while. Well, until Fred the mechanic calls. I still need the mysterious thumping sound fixed. I put in a work request on the last lease day, which was six days ago. It sounds like cords broke in the front left wheel. But it's more pronounced under braking, so it could be a warped rotor.
After the navy base I stopped at Body Beautiful, a full-service car wash on Pacific Highway and Grape. Taxis pay $8 for a thorough scrubbing, inside and out.
I also picked up the last thing I need to transfer files from the DVR to the laptop at home (and returned the webcam). This will expand my entertainment in the car.
Before I came out I stopped by the 32nd St. Navy base to renew my base permit, but I was 10 minutes too late. That will be my last bit of administrative mumbo jumbo for a while. Well, until Fred the mechanic calls. I still need the mysterious thumping sound fixed. I put in a work request on the last lease day, which was six days ago. It sounds like cords broke in the front left wheel. But it's more pronounced under braking, so it could be a warped rotor.
After the navy base I stopped at Body Beautiful, a full-service car wash on Pacific Highway and Grape. Taxis pay $8 for a thorough scrubbing, inside and out.
I also picked up the last thing I need to transfer files from the DVR to the laptop at home (and returned the webcam). This will expand my entertainment in the car.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Admin in the afternoon
Heavy load of administrative tasks today, and managed to complete all of them.
- CA DMV for H6 (copy of driving record). Amazingly, I waited only 15 minutes. It's a world record. I have sat in that line for 2 1/2 hours before. Cost: $5.
- Passport photos at Walgreens, $12.
- Renew cab permit at police dept., $16. They said it will be ready tomorrow, which would be another world record. Ten days is about average.
- Tested webcam in car: what a joke! The camera is such low quality the recordings are useless. Back to the drawing board.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Tough start to a beautiful day
Yesterday was cool with a bit of rain in San Diego. Today is partly sunny and 65 or so. No complaints... but...
I forgot to get my lease cash to my cab partner, so it fell to me to travel to HQ and pay for all three of us. That's not a big deal, except I wasn't expecting it, and woke up about 30 minutes before the payment deadline. One of my favorite things about driving cab is there is no stress, or scrambling, or deadlines (or expectations!). I guess once in a while won't hurt me.
Now that all the administrative duties are complete, and I'm "working", all the stress and problems have melted away. I really enjoy having a low stress job.
I forgot to get my lease cash to my cab partner, so it fell to me to travel to HQ and pay for all three of us. That's not a big deal, except I wasn't expecting it, and woke up about 30 minutes before the payment deadline. One of my favorite things about driving cab is there is no stress, or scrambling, or deadlines (or expectations!). I guess once in a while won't hurt me.
Now that all the administrative duties are complete, and I'm "working", all the stress and problems have melted away. I really enjoy having a low stress job.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Paperwork blues
The owner of the cab company called and explained that the car now has temporary registration until the official license plate sticker arrives. She claimed California never mailed her the new one, even though she paid. I've decided not to reveal details about her on this blog. Suffice it to say that she has a good heart and character, and is good at what she does. And anyone who can manage cab drivers deserves tremendous respect. It's like herding cats (exceedingly dumb ones).
I left a note for Tom*, the morning driver, to call the owner today and inquire about the sticker. I also suggested he pick up some oil and turn in a work order -- the car is making a thumping sound and there's a shimmy, more pronounced under braking. "Thump" and "shimmy" are official taxi lingo.
Also, my cab permit and Navy permit expire soon. I already took a mandatory drug test, and still need to get passport photos and a DMV printout of my driving record. It's absurd that, in 2007, I have to go to a DMV office and wait for three hours for an idiot clerk to press "print" on a keyboard. This should all be available on the web.
I also need to visit Navy offices for a new base I.D. Sailors tell me all the time how inefficient and downright idiotic the Navy can be, but compared to the California DMV, they're miraculous.
* I have changed all names on this blogto protect the guilty for privacy reasons. Also, I drive nights, and two other guys, Tom and Andrew, take turns driving the morning shift. Tom is a guy in his 20s, and he's funnier than hell; Andrew is in his 30s, married with children. Oddly, Tom is considerably more responsible. I can't get Andrew to check the oil or wash the car, but Tom takes care of business without being asked.
I left a note for Tom*, the morning driver, to call the owner today and inquire about the sticker. I also suggested he pick up some oil and turn in a work order -- the car is making a thumping sound and there's a shimmy, more pronounced under braking. "Thump" and "shimmy" are official taxi lingo.
Also, my cab permit and Navy permit expire soon. I already took a mandatory drug test, and still need to get passport photos and a DMV printout of my driving record. It's absurd that, in 2007, I have to go to a DMV office and wait for three hours for an idiot clerk to press "print" on a keyboard. This should all be available on the web.
I also need to visit Navy offices for a new base I.D. Sailors tell me all the time how inefficient and downright idiotic the Navy can be, but compared to the California DMV, they're miraculous.
* I have changed all names on this blog
