Taxi Driver-The Ill Fated Lad: From Heaven to Hell

By Vic K. A

The book is about a real live story of the beauty of life when I had a wonderful income which ultimately gave me a glamorous lifestyle. I had a lavished apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan where I was always entertaining my friends and their friends. Sometimes me and my friends would use limousine just for the night out. At the end of

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jun 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643456041

Vic K. A

Vic K. A is a college graduate from a reputable university right here in New York City. I have a BBA in Banking and Finance and a minor in Accounting. I also have a two year certificate from the American Institute of Banking (AIB) in New York City. I have been working in the finance/accounting profession for almost thirty years. I have worked permanently for four huge corporations, not because I wanted to jump from one firm to the other, but because I was downsized along the way. My first job was with big brokerage firm on Wall Street that filed for bankruptcy decades ago that left almost twenty one thousand employees jobless. There had been too many moments of trials and tribulations over the years that finally have brought life back to me. I am at the my retirement age and currently living in my home in Queens New York.

Book preview

Introduction

I solemnly swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me, God. This is how the story begins, yes! I swear to tell the truth. When you go to court standing before the judge with your accuser, you swear to tell the truth while your accuser also swore to tell the truth but eventually would commit perjury. I am writing this book with the best of my knowledge and eyewitness of the events that took place while driving a yellow cab. I wonder why some people have the passion to hurt their fellow humans, and I mean the passion to damage an innocent person who’s most probably one of the best, gentle, and peaceful one, only trying to make an honest living by driving taxi?

What is wrong with driving a cab in New York City? Most taxi drivers are from third world countries. They have no bill of rights. A one-time mayor once said, All taxi drivers should go back to their country of origin and leave honest and decent Americans alone. This mayor suggested that if a police officer or TLC inspector issues summons to a taxi driver, that one traffic violation should have two summonses—one to TLC and the other to DMV. What a wicked mayor! He terrorized taxi drivers. If you get into the cab, you see a note at the back seat, which reads Passengers’ Bill of Rights and the items that constitute the bill. What about the Taxi Drivers’ Bill of Rights? Do the passengers understand that taxi drivers should also have bill of rights? No wonder the so-called honest and decent Americans are brutalizing the dishonest and indecent third world taxi drivers. Please, I urge the readers of this book to be sagacious and see the dereliction of taxi drivers.

Chapter 1

My Life before Driving a Taxi

Let me briefly introduce myself. I am a college graduate from a reputable university right here in the Big Apple. I have a BBA in banking and finance and a minor in accounting. I also have a certificate from American Institute of Banking in NYC. I have been working on this accounting profession for almost thirty years. Within these years, I have worked for four major corporations, not because I wanted to jump from one firm to the other, but for the fact that I was downsized along the way. My first big job was in a big brokerage firm in Wall Street that filed for bankruptcy decades ago. It was in accounting position when I was hired in 1987 on a salary of $30,000 plus huge bonus and all benefits. Those years, that was a lot of money.

When I was interviewed for this position, no mention was made of experience in accounting, no experience needed for that software called McCormack & Dodge. I was taught how to use the software, and in one week, I became master of the software. No consumer credit report was done, no driving record was checked, no background of any kind was obtained from me. The same day of the interview, the same day I got the job. How wonderful. After my graduation in 1991, I was informed that I should be transferred to corporate finance department. Unfortunately, after four years with this company, it filed for bankruptcy in 1991, leaving almost twenty thousand employees jobless.

I started job hunting, registered with the employment agencies, dropped off my résumés with the corporations. Those years, you could walk into corporate buildings, checked out the tenants at the lobby board, and then you just walk into the offices and leave your résumé with the human resources. Sometimes, they will respond with that OK, if we have something, we call you.

But I was hoping that the fastest way to get a job could come by the agencies. So the same week I went to the agencies, I was getting calls for jobs. In one week alone, I could receive four calls asking me if I was available for assignments. I had to choose one at a time, and I took one that was around the defunct World Trade Center. The company I was assigned to was very beautiful. The offices were very decent, the people were easygoing guys such as after work every Friday, we stopped by the TGIF on Broadway by Wall Street to have something to eat and drink.

After about one month with this agency/company, another agency called me and said to me that their assignment would pay me higher and could probably turn to a permanent position. That was very exciting because my destination was to permanent position, where I could have direct salary with all the benefits. When you are a temporary employee, the company you are assigned to would send your paycheck to the agency, then the agency will cut almost 20 percent of that check before you finally receive your own check. As a temp also, you don’t have any benefits whatsoever; if you don’t go to work, you don’t get paid. So I immediately said goodbye to that temporary agency and moved over to the new one.

This new agency had assigned me to a company one block away from my first brokerage firm, just by the Stock Exchange. The very first day at work as a temp, the manager said to me that this temp job now should be a permanent full-time position.

Seriously? I asked.

He said, Yes. Are you ready for that?

I said, Thank you very much, sir. I will take it.

The best part of this, there was no other interview, again, there was no consumer credit report, no driving record, no experience on QuickBooks software, no experience as a staff accountant.

My supervisor had to teach me everything I had to know of that position. In two weeks of teaching and learning, I was on my own and doing excellent work. I was placed on a salary range of $40,000 with all benefits but not much of bonus because it was a small nonprofit organization. I loved this small company very much. The staff are respectful, and everyone knows and loves one another. All these of events happened in 1997.

I also love this company because of the fact that it was in Wall Street, also that it was one block away to TGIF on Broadway, and the best of all, I fell in love with a super beautiful lady in that same company. It happened the same month I joined the company. So every Friday like I said before, we visited TGIF to drink and eat before heading home. There was nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and find enjoyment in his hard work. My love activities with this lady remained secret within the office. I made sure that she was very happy. This is what life is all about; you have income to make merry for yourself. Paycheck is the source of livelihood; it takes care of all your financial obligations. As a not-for-profit organization, this company relied on donations from those who pledged—from corporations, individual memberships, group memberships, and some funds from the government. Just after that ugly 9/11, all of the revenues stopped coming, and this small company started having some financial problems. What’s next, downsizing, and I was among twenty out of fifty employees who were let go after my three years of service. I became unemployed again.

Sometimes, you turn on the morning news and discover your company will be laying off people. When you arrive at work, you feel as though you are walking into a morgue. Other times, you walk through the doors and see everyone whispering in the coffee room, looking anxious or depressed. Rumors are spreading that a major layoff will be announced that day. These scenarios are common in major layoffs. In a minor layoff, you may not see anything coming until your boss calls you into his office and gives you the bombshell, as in my own case. Decisions were made privately at some higher level about budget cuts that no one saw it coming.

Whether you are part of a mass layoff or one of just a few, you initially face feelings of anger and depression. You’ll essentially move through all the steps of mourning a loss. When it comes to that awful layoff moment, you should find out if you should receive severance package and how much it could be and a list of things you should take with you as you leave. Sometimes, you ask yourself this question, how do they decide who to be laid off? Maybe the company decided instead to carefully pick the people who they determined were troublemakers. The designated troublemakers were people, whom for one reason or another were not well-liked in the office. So if you like to stand up for your opinions, you could be putting yourself on the chopping block during a future layoff. How much severance did I receive, maybe one month paycheck compared to that of my previous investment banking job, which paid a very large sum.

Whether or not you’ve received a notice, the actual moment of layoff is traumatic for everyone—it doesn’t matter your position in that company. If you’ve hated your job, your initial reaction may be that of relief and joy, but quickly, reality sets in—you’re still out of work and have lost a regular paycheck. Most people feel mixed emotions—anger, depression, relief, joy, anxiety, helplessness, vulnerability, nervousness, revenge, elation, fear, and more fear. If you are given the chance, you share a few tears and hugs with your coworkers, but often a company will escort you out of the door immediately after you’re given notice. Or even worse, you could be escorted to your office or cubicle with a guard who watches your every move as you pack your personal belongings.

This can be particularly demeaning as it seems, as if your employer does not trust you even after these years of your excellent services to the company. But in reality, companies got into the habit of doing this because so many laid off people wiped out computer files or committed acts of sabotage that made it difficult for others to continue working on the laid off employees’ projects. Most of us tend to want to seek revenge against the person who wronged us by laying us off. But the person who executes the layoff is not always the one who made the decision. When I was laid off at this job, I went to TGIF on Broadway and Exchange Place among ten others who were also laid off with me. We were drinking beer and eating buffalo wings with tears in our eyes. I remember very well, a guy in that bar who asked us what was the matter, and we bluntly told him that we lost our jobs. Then he said, Oh! Sorry, guys.

Layoffs in the United States are becoming more and more common as companies determine that employees are disposable and no longer see the value of experienced workers with a long-term company history. Often a company only realizes the value lost by laying off someone with twenty years of experience when it’s too late and that worker is long gone. Occasionally, someone with strong institutional knowledge will be called back as a consultant after a layoff, but don’t count on that happening to you. If you were laid off, it’s time to move on to greener pastures. While it may be tempting to go back if you are recalled, remember unless your company undergoes a major shift, it’s most likely just a matter of time before it downsizes again, especially in an economic downturn. If you are laid off, it’s probably best to be off that sinking ship and focusing your energy on your next best opportunity.

My nephew’s wife lost her job since 2011 in Wall Street, where she was making almost $160,000 a year. They were about to purchase a house when she was laid off. Then they realized that they were very lucky to have not purchased the house of almost $470,000.

My nephew told me that she had saved a lot of money that kept them sustainable to life standards, and fortunately, they have no children. They are still renting a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, New York. Then on the other hand, my niece, the sister to my nephew who also has been out of work for almost three years as a social worker, up till November 2016, she had never been able to secure another job. Her husband, also a social worker, still has his job but not able to support his family of five including their children. In view of this, he had to take another small part-time job to supplement his income. The last time I saw this family, this husband was not looking good because he was always falling asleep in this family event. This really meant that he must be overworking himself just to survive the hardship of America.

We all need to accept the fact that being laid off is just a part of the lifestyle in the United States. Most people will be laid off at least once in their lifetime, and many will be laid off multiple times. In my circle of family and friends, almost all the people I know had been laid off at least once unless they work for their state or hold federal jobs. I remember the news that the US Department of Labor announced in 2008 that unemployment was at almost 6 percent, but that doesn’t represent true levels of unemployment as many people must take jobs at a much lower salary than they had been earning in their previous job just to put food on the table. Others take part-time jobs, and yet others just give up looking for work completely. Some estimate the jobless rate in America then was closer to 10 percent if one considers the underemployed and those who have given up looking for work. If you’re recently laid off, I simply want to assure you that you are not alone. You are part of what is becoming the norm for the US labor market, so don’t think that you’ve done anything wrong. Just take some time to heal from the wound of losing your job and then get back in the saddle and look for a new job.

We’re encouraged to be loyal to the company we work for but can’t expect the same loyalty from that company. If the top executives need to improve the company’s profit margin, they must focus on the bottom line and not on the lives of the people they plan to lay off. Too often you hear of companies laying off employees while large bonuses or raises are voted in by the board of directors for the top executives. Often a manager is rewarded if they can reduce head count, cut costs, and still get the job done. The people left behind are usually overworked and, with new overtime rules, forced to work longer hours without extra pay.

All these periods, I was living at Upper East Side of Manhattan from Downtown Brooklyn. I have been living in the city for just about five years, and life was full of fun. I used to invite my friends over to get together and tell stories, with something to eat and drink. We play music, and people were dancing. I make music tapes for my friends because I had one of the best stereo systems and the most lavished apartment in the entire building of twenty stories, so said the superintendent of the building. I had the most superior leather binding encyclopedia that was worth almost $30,000, which was paid for in a period of seven years. It was like buying a car and you pay monthly installments until it was paid off. Those years, there was no internet; encyclopedia was the means of search for everything you want to know. I bought that encyclopedia because I was always very curious about things and also these books were unbelievably beautiful. So they were used as part of the decoration of the apartment.

Please, let me describe my apartment just a little bit for you to better understand this man. The parlor had a jaw-dropping wall unit with wine glass hanging above like a bar, a huge mirror, a majestic wine/champagne exhibition center above a huge TV compartment, and a bookshelf attached to the unit with almost fifty books just like a school library. These books consisted of economics, finance, accounting, history, banking, mathematics, English, geography, and a whole lot more. There was a space for the most wonderful stereo system ever and a compartment for the records and cassettes. Each compartment in the wall unit had its own light bulb, and these lights could be in different colors. The wall unit started from end to the end of the wall. The sofa was a modular leather recliner, simply magnificent one-foot cushion, and the center table was glass of three layers that rotates 360 degrees. The lamps on the four corners of the living room were Tiffany by design.

The rug carpet on the floor is picturesque, with beautiful arts decor hanging on the four corners of the living room. I had a spacious dining area that had a table of six seats. Each wall of the dining room had a set of cupboard that houses all my exclusive chinawares. Well, the kitchen came with all modern amenities that are part of the fixtures of the apartment. Now to the bedroom, beauty is not enough to classify it. The bedroom is Titanic, the bed itself is king-size and enough to accommodate four passengers. The ladies who slept on it felt so comfortable and very satisfied after each game. After precious lovemaking, sleep was the next thing on the menu and you wake up feeling so fresh. The board of the bed is lacquer. The wardrobe was an absolute touchdown, with lightening inside. In there, I had collections of tuxedos and expensive suits, almost sixty ties of Italian make. I had almost thirty designer gold and flavored diamond cuff links of various prices, plus dozens of cigarette lighters all locked up in glass showcase. My friends told me that I had a lavish lifestyle and out of this world. Yes, I love fashion. The first company I worked for gave me a properly designed certificate, which read that I was the best dressed employee of the company. Not just fashion but very expensive suits, high-priced shoes, dazzling shirts, and elegant ties.

One night, as I was entertaining my guests of twelve, as usual, some of these friends were friends of my friends who came to my place for the first time. These boys and girls were hanging out on that Saturday night at my place. We were drinking all kinds of drinks, eating all kinds of foods, and smoking all kinds of smokes. Those years, there were no cell phones, just home phones.

After hours of fanfare at my place, one of my lady guests said to me that she wanted to make calls with my phone. I said sure. So I walked her to my bedroom as the parlor was noisy. We got to my bedroom, and she wowed and said, Oh my god, this is very, very beautiful, and I said, Oh, thank you. As I was to hand her the phone, she held me tight and started kissing me so passionately, did not even care if my girlfriend was in the living room.

When I finally went to rejoin my guests in the living room, I forgot to wipe away the lipstick on my lips, which was a sign of some smooching and kissing in the bedroom. I was kind of embarrassed. Luckily at that time, I did not have what I would call a steady girlfriend. I was what you might call a playboy, always looking for the best lady around with my kind of taste, especially in bed. By the time my guests were all gone around two o’clock in the morning, I had made myself comfortable with the beauty who had kissed me in my bedroom. We exchanged phone numbers before she left with her friends.

My first date with this beauty, we went to dinner at Bleecker Street in the Village in New York, a restaurant very well-known for seafood. She liked seafood so much, and so did I. The waitresses and bartenders were all my friends by now. She asked me if I have been to this restaurant, and I said yes. She was sitting with me now, one-on-one over the dinner table. I could look closer into her blue eyes, and she gazed into mine. I was wondering what she was thinking about at this time because sometimes she dimmed her eyes at me. I pushed my right leg forward under the desk so that it could touch her legs, and without contention, she responded with a princess smile.

She said to me, What a great apartment you have.

I responded, Oh, thank you so much. That’s where you belong.

She smiled with such a great appreciation. She asked me a question that I was waiting to hear, and that was You have been at this restaurant before with who?

I had to be very honest with her, so I answered, With my ex-girlfriend and also coworkers.

I could see the slight rage on her face, and I said to her that my love for her should be better. We spent just about two hours of eating, drinking, and talking when finally the check came for just $100 plus $50 tips, which was not bad. I always took care of the servers as they called me by my name. She was very happy with me.

There standing on Sixth Avenue and Bleecker Street, waiting for a cab at around 11:00 p.m., was quite a big challenge. We were standing for almost fifteen minutes before finally getting a cab to my place under her permission. Right in the cab, she gave me a red-faced and dying eyes kisses that rose my pestle. I tried to make her feel that part as it bulged out of control, but she withdrew her hand. We kissed again and my mind blurred, and I thought how until now I’d never known what it was like to be kissed. Spell-casting kisses, kisses that take off layers of my soul, that split me open. We got to my place, opened the door, walked her in, and I closed the door. While standing by the door, it was long and sustainable kisses of my life.

Now to the couch, lying face up, I gently went on top with my mouth dribbling her mouth, my fingers tingling her swollen red nipples until she started to moan.

Please don’t stop, I heard, then I worked my way downstairs when I felt the rose garden. I put my fingers right inside, and she raised up her Brazilian butt for me to play with what my fingers were feeling. This time, I knew she was ready for the main event.

Come on, my beauty, I said. So I walked her to the bedroom of fantasy where she kissed me the night she came with her friends. As she was kneeling down, she was looking at me until her knees were completely on the floor. She unzipped me and pulled out what she called Mandingo. She plunged it into her precious mouth, sometimes playing with the head, gently rotating her lips on the tip of the head, which made me scream, and sometimes she put in Mandingo and the balls completely inside her mouth and throat. She stood up and was still looking at me with eyes that simulate Queen Cleopatra.

I undressed her, and then I saw the silhouette of her rose garden. I finally took off the undies. It was her turn to undress me, which she quickly did, and all our clothing casted on the floor. While still standing, she pressed her warm flesh to mine, and my fingers this time had to dig deep into her wet mortar as her legs were widespread. I was finger-dunking her while she was rubbing and pulling my Hercules, then she gently dropped it inside. As I was dancing in and out, I could see that my Hercules is now very moisturized and ready to finish up the job. So I drew my pestle from the mortar as we dived into the bed of thy kingdom come. This is where heaven and earth met together to create a moment of eternity. I went on top of her, she plunged my pestle into her mortar, and I was banging hard, harder, and hardest until she started to moan and modulate.

After a while, she was now on top of me, twerking systematically and very synchronized. She was pushing her head up and down, sweating profusely, and then she started shivering and screaming so loudly, I am coming, I am coming, as she was twerking harder with tears and sweats all over. Now it was my turn again to climb on top of her because I have not ejaculated.

Her inside was so wet and very slippery. The blood vessels of my Hercules have swollen to share my milk fifty-fifty. Release some inside and some on my bush garden and nipples so we can play with it.

So I placed my pestle inside, sometimes slipped out, and she quickly used her fingers to push it back inside. When I was dropping my milk, she begged me on her nipples, leaking the milk I dropped on, transporting the milk to her mouth. She told me that she never had sex on her first date, that I am very special, the most lavished apartment she had ever seen.

She began to start second round, and my Hercules was very ready. This time a perfect blowjob, fingering, and this time, doggy style. Dipping from behind revealed an amazing fatty flesh. She raised one leg to the bed, then I dipped my fingers to show me the hole before I finally pushed in Hercules to get the job done. I was pushing in and out for about five minutes when I shouted, Yes, here I come, I am coming.

She let go some of my milk inside, and she pulled out my Hercules right on her face where I dropped the rest of the milky, slippery substance all over her face. I ran my lips all over her face, scooping some from one area to another part of her face. It was the best sex of my life. God bless my beauty. We are masters of our own sexual destiny. Let that end there; it’s not the main story.

***

Why should I tell you about my education, tell you about wonderful jobs, tell you about my luxurious apartment and my sex life? That was my life then, and the next part of my story should be something completely different as it describes the adage No condition is permanent.

As I started looking for another job, sending out résumés and also searching through the staffing agencies, I had a temporary assignment when permanent jobs were not available.

This assignment was for two months on Madison Avenue, which means I did not need any kind of transportation to work or from work. Unfortunately, the assignment ended up after two months. Then months later, I received a call from XYZ Corporation about my résumé. The lady left a message on my voice mail; then, there was no cell phone. She specifically said that the position was waiting for me, that I have the perfect experience she was looking for.

So I had to return her call, and she gave me the next day appointment for interview. When I went for the interview the next day, the lady was not impressed when she saw me because she was expecting someone else.

She asked me, Are you the person living on this address, or you live with someone else?

I responded, I live by myself.

Immediately, she told me that I was overqualified. I could not figure out what that meant. I have stayed almost five months and no steady income, and things have started getting wrong. When you don’t have that paycheck you are used to, the way you think will never be the same again. You are completely two different persons. Now I am falling behind my mortgage and maintenance fees. My eyes started seeing red, and I could hardly believe what was going on. I have not paid my mortgage and maintenance fees for about three months.

Suddenly, I came up with the most painful and stupid decision of my life: to sell my beautiful apartment. Stupid in the sense that I did not think properly before selling my apartment. I listed my apartment for sale on the Daily News, and within the weeks, prospective buyers started coming and simply could not believe such a beautiful and lavished apartment. One of the buyers asked if I was going to sell my bedroom sets, living room sets, and the dining sets, and I said no. Making this long story short, I agreed to sell the condo to the best offer, and we closed within the month.

My mortgage then was not predatory loan. It was a decent, well-prepared loan with no hidden fees and had a straight line amortization. At least I made some decent return from my equity, and when the day to move came, I saw tears in my eyes. I asked myself, Is this really happening? I am moving out of this beautiful palace, the place I called the Junction.

Life will never be the same again, only by miracle. Relocating from Manhattan to Jersey City to me was like downsizing. Why Jersey City? I have looked for apartments to rent all over Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens; none was big enough to accommodate my stuff. This place in Jersey City was huge and a doorman building, fantastic. A new lifestyle will begin, and I was not sure of the direction of that lifestyle. All I knew now was that lifestyle will change.

I was lucky that in those years, there was not much of investigating this or that before someone could get an apartment. Even though I had some sizeable bank account, it could not last long without income. Every expense must be replenished by income. My rent was about $800 every month, and I was not ready to dispose of my furniture in order for me to live in one small room without furniture. My properties are part of my life and represents years of hard work.

Chapter 2

My Start as a Taxi Driver

Since I moved to Jersey City, I have not had an income for five months, and my account was diminishing fast, and something must be done quick. I could not figure out what to do to have a paycheck; the longer I remain unemployed, the harder it would be to get a job. One night out to Manhattan, I was a passenger in a taxi, and I was having a friendly conversation with the cabby. I said to him, Can you make money driving taxi?

He said, Yes, but you have to put up a lot of hours every day to make decent money.

I asked further, About how much can you make in ten hours of driving every day?

He said that on the weekend like Fridays and Saturdays, you could make about $200 each day, sometimes a little more and sometimes a little less.

I was thinking of hey, I will be a taxi driver. Is that possible? Is that the best job available for me? Did corporate America closed their doors on me?

I was cautiously optimistic of what could be the case of me being a taxi driver, a new chapter in my life. Should my friends know that this flamboyant Upper East Ender is now a taxi driver?

I was not fully convinced that taxi driving should be my next profession. That taxi driver did tell me how to get started if I would like to be a taxi driver. I have not had a deposit into my account for the past seven months since I relocated to Jersey City, and that account is reduced. Finally, I decided to give it a short to be a taxi driver. I have to start the process of obtaining a hack license from the Taxi and Limousine Commission (TLC).

I went to TLC office at Long Island City around nine in the morning, almost fifty people waiting on the line to be the first inside. That day was just to pick up application forms, take it home with you, and come back whenever with all the requirements. These are the requirements: the cost of fingerprinting, drug test, application fees, disposition of all felony records, DMV abstract, then there should be twenty-four-hour (three days) taxi classroom lecture, just to name a few.

The classroom lecture was very important because, as far as I was concerned, of that knowledge of do not pursue any passenger who refused to pay you, that person must be dangerous. My life comes first, and I have seen too many instances like that. After the three-day class, test was conducted, and if you fail that test, you have to start all over. If you pass and all requirements were met, then in two to three weeks, your hack license should be on the mail for you. From the beginning of this process to the end took almost one month.

***

This is where the title of this book, Taxi Driver: The Ill-Fated Lad begins. Now I have my hack license to drive a cab, I have to choose between driving for the individual taxi owner or the fleet, which means a taxi company that has a lot of yellow cabs. So I decided to go for the fleet where liabilities are to a minimum. If I have an accident, the garage should fix the car and you should be dispatched with another car. If you drive for the individual and you have an accident, you might be in trouble with the owner while the car should be at the repair shop, not knowing when the car should be ready. At the fleet, you have a choice of evening driver, which starts at 5:00 p.m. to 5:00 a.m. or the day shift, which starts from 5:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Also, you could choose to lease weekly, that is you pay once in the week or pay when you drive.

I went to register with a fleet in Brooklyn that had almost 150 yellow cabs. I put up the paperworks and submitted all documents as was requested of. I was titled an independent contractor just as the other drivers in that garage, almost two hundred of them. I chose evening shift even though they pay higher price than the day shift. It was believed that evening drivers make more money than the day drivers. You must understand that taxi drivers has no health insurance, no dental, no unemployment compensation, no paychecks, etc. You are on your own. My first day driving taxi was like my first day being a bank teller in the ’80s. I was confronted with people of different characters. The big difference between the teller and the taxi driver was that the teller had all the benefits and very protected while the taxi driver had none. I also had to choose a partner, somebody who will share a car with me. That person should drive day shift and I drive evening shift. This person must meet my own standard, that is we sit and introduce ourselves, how to treat the car, how to connect to one another, how to make accommodation for emergencies, and how to be very friendly to one another. Luckily, I found a lovely guy who’s a perfect gentleman. He agreed with me in all aspects of my recommendations. He saw me with beautiful suit, Italian tie, and well-polished shoes and shook hands and best of lucks to each other.

This company saw my résumé, from Wall Street and Upper East Side, a very decent person, so the company agreed to assign a brand-new car to me and my partner. Normally, if you are a freshman in the taxi driving industry, you are definitely going to have a beat-up car until you graduate such that your driving record was good. My day partner was unbelievable, simply the best. He called me every day to let me know when the car should be at the garage and sometimes, at 3:30 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. When I got to the garage, the brand-new Ford Crown Victoria was there waiting for the evening shift, that’s me. It was my turn to drive out. I had my own keys to the car while the rest of the taxi drivers were looking at me like a stranger, then I drove off.

Some of these evening shift drivers got to the garage around 11:00 a.m. in order to have a car by 5:00 p.m. Sometimes, they end up not dispatched and went home empty. Driving along Flatbush Avenue on Fulton Street, I picked up a passenger going to West End in Manhattan, I told her that she was my very first passenger on my very first day driving a cab. She asked me why I’m driving a cab for the first time. I told her that I lost my job and have not had any income for the past eight months and the bills got to be paid. She told me she was an attorney and felt very sympathetic with me. There at West End, she paid me with substantial tips and wished me good luck.

In one week of driving taxi on nine to ten hours a day, I have made almost $800, which comes to $3,200 a month, and that was good enough to keep life going. I said to myself, this amount was sufficient enough to have taken care of my mortgage, maintenance fees, my social life, and every other expenses I had at Upper East Side. I should have known regret always comes last. I really wished I drove taxi when I was still living at Upper East Side. How did I make that mistake? It never occurred to me at all because I would never, never had to believe that taxi driving should be on my menu one time in my life.

***

I have been driving this taxi now for over seven months without any setbacks except that one day as I was cruising along East End Avenue driving south from Ninety-Second Street. I turned right on Eighty-Sixth Street heading to York Avenue. I passed York Avenue toward First Avenue, then before Second Avenue, a police car appeared at my back with his sirens