Monday just before midnight a bald drunk man jumped into my cab while it was parked, with me in it, at the taxi stand in front of Paul's Food Center, the leper colony at Congress Square. The job was to drive him to the airport, pick up his wife, and drop them both at their place. This pleased me greatly: my night was dreadfully slow, and if this guy didn't tip it was still at least a $25 fare.
We arrived at the Portland International Jetport (what is up with the name?!), and he asked me not to leave him alone with the missus. I believe the quote was "I'm poop-faced. She'll fucking kill me, but she won't if you're there?" What the fuck was I getting myself into?
The guy goes in looking for his wife, while I hang out in front of the baggage claim entrance; as a hack I'm not allowed to leave the cab parked unattended. He once again made me promise to leave him, and I said I wouldn't: I had to make sure I got paid. He guaranteed me I would get my money.
I gave the man fifteen minutes before I started charging him for waiting time. I'm not a hard-ass when it comes to that stuff. Some drivers will hit the "time off" button the second the passenger steps out of the cab (which is his or her legal right). I find a lot of people get pissy and won't tip if I "run time" on them. So I usually give some leeway. Unless they're regular customers that don't tip then fuck 'em: I get paid to wait.
I waited almost another fifteen minutes, and I had no clue where the dude was so I had him paged. He emerged. My fare had no idea why his wife had not arrived yet. I informed him it was much cheaper for him to pay me and grab another cab when he was ready than it was for him to have me wait. He guaranteed he would take care of me.
About ten minutes later, right before 1am, he came back after another disappearance. I told him I had waited long enough, the meter was up to close to $32, and I had to go. It was then that the drunk dickhead revealed he had no money, and his wife had to pay. I told him she had better show up or his ass was going to jail.
A TSA agent was observing the conversation. He asked for the man's ID and his lady's name and left to check on her status. The agent came back a few minutes later to say the missus had missed her flight in Atlanta. I was livid. I had wasted over an hour on this jackass. I wanted the paper owed to me. I called the cops for theft of service.
Two police officers, a man and a woman, showed up at the airport about ten minutes later. They run the fucker's license and hear his tale.
The guy had been drinking at Rockin' Rickey's all night. He lived in Lewiston, and I'm not sure how he got to Portland. And he was out on bail (for what I do not know).
I was asked if I wanted to press charges. I really just wanted my money. Yours truly did not want to send a guy to jail over $40, even if it sounded like he was an unsavory fellow before the incident. So I caved and decided to give the guy a week to pay me. But even if he doesn't I won't press charges. It sounds like a colossal pain in the ass for me over a few bucks that might take me FOREVER to get. The male cop didn't seem to like my plan: "he's out on bail so we already know what kind of character we're dealing with here" and shit like that. He obviously wanted to cuff 'im and stuff 'im. But it was my call to make. Because even though the "perp" was a drunk who never bothered to confirm his wife was even on the fucking plane, he struck me as a nice guy who merely fucked up.
So the cops instructed him that he had to a week to send me a money order or they will arrest him and charge him for theft of service. I appreciated how they lied and threatened him for me.
I might be proof that there's a sucker born every minute. I'm hoping I get my money, but I doubt I ever will.
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