For taxi drivers, the night before New Year's is like the icing on the cake of the month of December. A true fantasy that only happens once a year. Passengers succeed at such a pace, a point they all merge. At the same time, they are happy, are emphatic that we work, tips are good and despite the hype, it's hard not to find his account.
is the next day that reality is catching up. Day and night ...
That night, I slept an hour longer. The 15 hours on the road to watch me in cash. I took a quick shower and went to join my family Dinner of New Year's Day. That's good, but a little too much. I left mine about 21 hours with a nasty stomachache. I returned quickly to change me and take me some antacids before heading back.
I drove half an hour to realize that the night would be long. The mild temperatures would not help. The amount of taxis either. Like me, many of the drivers had their vehicles rent for the rest of the weekend. Bad idea. Seeing this, I decided to settle on a position and wait for a call. Much better than burning gasoline for nothing. As I parked, I told myself after my first call should be I dream to go fill the tank. The gauge is broken and as I drove a lot yesterday, the Malibu has to start to get thirsty.
I stay on the job for nearly an hour. It's completely stupid, I come to think that the profits of the day will soon engulf the shortfall the next two nights. I try to change my mind by reading the comics Siris my friend, but my supply of patience is dwindling rapidly. I'm about to start to change the wrong place when a call finally appears on the screen of my terminal. I start choking, so the taxi immediately. Fuel.
I will spare you the series of coronations I uttered at that time. The worst is that I only had myself to blame, but the way it was presented that evening, as if it was in the order of things. I recalled the central point for my failure and I got out of the taxi with my pain to get gas a few blocks away. I tell the driver behind me he fell first, surprise, he kindly offered me to take me to the station.
I meet Mohamed who is in his first week on the road. Internally, I would say that an old driver not been as endorsement. He asked me some questions about the book and wonder if it's still very quiet Saturday night. I go a few assumptions when a call rings out his terminal. Probably the one I just lost. It still drops me at the pumps before leaving with a bang.
I ask the guy behind the counter if I can borrow a can of relief. He made a grimace that speaks volumes. Glance, it shows me a shelf where said object. With taxes, it's $ 15 more than I lose. The clerk did not care. In fact, a guy who holes the size of a two dollars in the lobes must not have much to fuck big-thing.
I will fulfill my small can happen when another driver. He willingly accepts me back to my taxi down in exchange for the container which would not have served afterwards anyway. His taxi smells rancid long hours of driving. He said he has his account, he goes to bed. I empty my small container before him goodnight. The taxi restarts as if nothing had happened and I go back to the station to fill to the brim. I try to avoid overflows ...
suite tomorrow ...
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