Taxi Tales:

Missed Connections

I saw you, and now I can’t shake you from my thoughts. There you are, captured in a  Craigslist image that does you no justice.

You, well, you were smaller than what I’m typically into, but I could tell from the tantalizing description that you were powerful nonetheless. Your nose was different and exotic, and it matched your rear in perfect symmetry. You could take me and all I had and probably handle six to seven other people besides myself. Yet your bio claimed that you had only been gently used. What a fantastic chance that you might be mine! missedconnection

Anxiously sifting through the remaining pictures, I discovered the carpet matched the drapes. You were a model of foreign sophistication, completely superior to your dumbed-down American counterparts. But what really excited me was hearing what got you going under the hood … a turbo diesel with a perfect little four-cylinder engine just begging to be converted for bio diesel. You had all of my most valued qualities: outstanding mpg, maximum capacity, low miles and right-side drive for easy Dairy Depot drive through runs. You were perfect.

Oh, my sweet Toyota Townace 4×4 van, we could have had a life together, but you’re gone forever now. Perhaps you were an opportunity missed, and even now I wonder where you are and what unappreciative schmucks sitting all over you. Nobody would have sat with you like I would have. Nobody.

Wondering what could have been is generally a fruitless, depressing mind exercise. In an idle cab with an idle mind however, it can be fun to wonder. MY missed connection with my Toyota was not my first experience. I see missed connections every day.

Jan. 2016—Sheriff’s deputy with gravelly voice who spoke to me while my tee pee burned. M4M with cat—(Bonner county).

ME: Average build, old-timey time traveler recently new to the area after traveling to this time. Life in the old west proved more difficult then I expected. I’m hard worker that’s keen on meandering adventure, cats and whiskey.

YOU: Purddy phone voice, gravely with a hint of frustration complemented with a bite of condescending flavor that could rival sarsaparilla. Your bewilderment at the information that my tee pee was burning down was endearing. What’s got me worked up into a tizzy is why you didn’t send help as my abode burned? It left me feeling sheepish, holding nothing but a cat and a bottle of whiskey near a smoldering tee pee when the kindly cab driver arrived to take me to the nearest inn. Send word if you see this as I would like to know how to properly call for help next time. Since phones and natural smoke signals don’t have no recourse in the wild future.

*Jan. through Dec., year-round. People I talked at last night in cab M4MWMMWWMTMWW- it could have been anyone (location unsure)

ME: You probably already know who I am, because I’m a big damn deal. The problem is I don’t remember anything. Every single night is a fragmented blur. I was completely hammered.  My hobbies include elbowing people out of my way as I hijack someone’s cab with no destination, loitering and forcing myself between girls in the cab. I aimlessly ride around in the cab asking about everyone about their lives in a smug and challenging way. Upon learning the details, I belittle you even though I have no understanding of any of it. Then insist (not very convincingly) that I’m better in every way until you, your boyfriend or anyone around wants to beat me up. I generally let this escalate until the cab driver has to break it up.

YOU: I have no memory of who you are or how many others I offended. I’m sure you were into it though, which is why I’m writing in. So if any of this sounds familiar, holla at your boy to correct the mistake. First round of jager on me, buttheads. I’ll be the one in your face.

•Every night You called again last night. Our conversations make no sense, and you confuse me, but I can’t quit you because I love you. -CabCar4town-( Greater Sandpoint area)

YOU: Eclectic vibrant beautiful community full of people I love. Honestly, town, you’re the greatest, but somehow you don’t understand what I need to make you happy. You all have pretty sweet houses, yurts and even tee pees to live in. Unfortunately most of them have no addresses clearly visible from the road, and you rarely use porch lights to illuminate them if you have them. Also, you ask my driver non-essential questions that are pointless and waste time.

Examples of frivolous questions: 1) Where are you? 2) How close are you? 3) Can you get here faster?

Examples of driver’s answers in order: 1) By a tree, or sometimes behind you.2) I don’t know where are you? Or closer now/farther now. 3) I can’t fly.

Ideal customer: “Greetings! Can I get a cab? We’re easy to find—the porch light’s on and my address is bigger than Bonners Ferry flag. Oh, you have people ahead of me? No problem! I planned ahead. It’s a large area to cover with limited cabs. I get it.”

ME: I’m a cab car, and between you and me, I don’t know how much time I have left at this gig. I suspect my driver is in love with a Toyota—some foreign floozy who takes anything from diesel to vegetable oil. Disgusting. It probably smells of fast food. I fear I may be replaced soon, and even though I’m bitter, I want the best for this dear town. If any of this sounds like you, you know what to do to assure mutual success.

Missed connections are a bummer, but life goes on. Even if the tee pee burns around you, there’s always a cat and bottle of whiskey somewhere. Just try not to get in people’s faces and make sure you have a porch light bright enough that shines on your destination. You’ll arrive just fine.

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