Saturday night is tomorrow, tonight was Friday. Aaaa what a shit show, the money was reasonable, but the tips were shit, not from everyone but lots of people sucked. The few that did tip me are all going to heaven.
Quite night in the cab, and out to tell you kids the truth. There was one women she was insane. I picked her up not far from the Transit Hotel, bad area, but what do you do? She needed a ride to Fort Saskatchewan, a decent sized trip. So we are on our way, we hit the Yellow Head and start moving east. When we reached Victoria Trail the women debated weather we should turn toward 118ave so she could score some crack. It's her decision to make not mine so I listen. She asks me if she could use my cell phone I say yes. She dials the bastard Crack dealer, he says no. Fuck. The old bitch starts to go haywire, she needs to find some Crack. She asks me if I know anyone, and the truth is I drive hundreds of drug dealers every night. Some leave me their digits and some don't. I trow them all away. The only numbers I take are those of friends, not children killers. She needs the crack bad. She asks for the phone again. who you calling ? I ask. She tells me its a guy who tried to burn down her house, but he can hook her up with the Crack. I give her the phone. She call. Its good. The dude lives in Fort Saskatchewan. On are way she tells me to avoid the exit and keep going , she knows a short cut. So we drive on. Then she realizes there is no short cut so we have to back track to the Fort. Her fare came to around eighty dollars, she starts to bitch that it's too much. I don't care it was her short cut that caused her the financial distress. She says she won't pay. So I radio dispatch and ask for the address of the closest police station. In my mind I know the bitch has Cash for the Crack dealer why shouldn't I get paid for doing my job, and some Crack dealer mother fucker gets more then his fare share. Fuck that we start moving toward the police station. She gets scared. Then she takes out eighty bucks and pays me. She also calls me some fucked up names, but I don't care, I even kind of like her a little more, come on she gave me eighty bucks, she can call me anything she wants as long as she doesn't touch me. I drop her off at the dealers. She gets out angry. Who cares Crack face.
Later on I pick up these two wealthy looking men. They direct me to a 711 on 91st and 82ave. When a SUV pulls up, I get the clue. The two dudes are buying blow. Throughout a night I see lots of drugs, too many in fact. The crack dealers are lucky that I don't report them to crime stoppers. I don't though, I'm not a rat, but I will tell on Johns and drunk drivers. Dealers get away with a lot in Edmonton, the cops allow them to roll around pretty freely. They would rather pull over a taxi, less paper work. Drug dealers are easy to spot. They are sober, talking on a cell phone in a Asian import car. They are always cocky those dealers, but fuck them let them go to hell for all I care. So the two dudes pick up some blow, They snorted it on the way to their house, I could tell, cause if your fare is high they tip decently.
My last fare was a dealer, but not cocaine , this guy sold X, PCP, special K all those cheesy party drugs. He asked if I was a cop as soon as he got in my car, at that point I knew he was a dealer. Whatever.
O and there was a group of good people that enjoyed my ride so much that the guys said I turned them gay. Wow, I'm good and strait what an accomplishment.