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Friday, March 23, 2018

I'M GETTING THE HELL OUT OF FLORIDA AND BACK TO VIRGINIA WHERE I DAMN WELL BELONG ( TFH )

Tomorrow the Broward County Homeless task force will arrive to try and assist the homeless living in the encampment in front of the Broward Main Library. 

The majority of these folks are either nutso or drug and/or alcohol dependent. As for me, my plan had been to get assistance in filing for Social Security and go from there. But when I contacted Broward County Main Offices (right across the street) I was told to await the "task force".  which would be able to assist me. 

The experience of spending two nights on the street - the worst of which I recounted in my last post - has rendered me determined to get THE FUCK OUT OF HERE and return to Alexandria where I have some friends and prospects.  If I stay here I won't be a "beach bum".  I'll just be a bum with the rest of the bums waiting to glom off my Social Security. And that's completely unacceptable to me.  

Oh by the way, I did sample a wee bit of Fort Lauderdale's "Spring Break".  And even though the drinking age is raised to 21, the behavior of the male horn-dogs is worse than I ever saw it in other settings when beer and wine could be had by 18 year olds. It was a completely disgusting spectacle.  One way or another, tomorrow I am outta here and on my way back to Alexandria, even if I have to hitchhike. 

QUITE POSSIBLY THE WORST MISTAKE I HAVE MADE IN MY NATURAL LIFE. (TFH 2)

Gentle readers, you all know how it is that I had come to the conclusion that it be best I retire in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  This may well be the worst mistake I have ever made in my life. 

Right now as I write this I have set up camp with about 30 others on the parameter of the Broward County main library. My position is at the Western recess of the main lobby entrance, where there  is a pillar to hide behind.  

This particular pillar and the space between it and the wall are redolent of the aromas of old piss and puke. The concrete on which I lay now bears the bleach marks from the stomach acid of those who puked beforetimes, and fresh piss fills the area between the pillar and the wall. Why did I choose such a position? Because it is on the lee side of the building, and it's the last one availiable.  

Amazing. My original plan was to file for my SS, then find some kind of shelter and look for a supplemental job, then look for a room or something; and from there enjoy the beach! Great plan, until I found out that if there is a SS office nearby, it's in the Federal Building which serves as the entrance to the United States Courthouse with all the paranoid attendant security.  

0946 am Friday March 23rd 2018

Over the night the wind shifted and it got really cold. Not Dayton Ohio cold but at least low 40s. When I woke up the sun was up but still quite cool, so I walked around to the back of the building. 

THERE WAS A TENT CITY HOUSING AT LEAST SEVENTY HOMELESS FOLKS IN THE PARK. It was larger than any similar encampment I have ever seen in Washington. D.C.  This is something I've noticed about Fort Lauderdale: If you even LOOK like you might be homeless, NOBODY will respond to anything you say,  even if you just want directions. It's understandable, because most if not all these homeless folks have no money at all, and they all want something, and there are so many of them that folks are sick of being pestered. Me, I still have sufficient cash for a couple days (but not enough to get me a $250 per night hotel room or - what I freaking wish I had right now - a bus ticket back to Alexandria where we have a SS office and the facilities and services to get someone back on his feet IF he wants to do so.

Some bunch of do-gooders is going to visit Tent City on Saturday. I'm gonna try to get them to pack me back to Alexandria.

I've heard about the best-laid plans of mice and men sometimes going astray, but this is damned ridiculous. 


Tuesday, March 20, 2018

FROM D.C. TO FORT LAUDERDALE: LITERALLY THE TRIP FROM HELL (FB TFH 1)

Oh, this trip is so damn frustrating and this is just the first leg of it.  I'm sitting in the waiting area for Greyhound Bus Lines with 3 hours to go until my bus leaves for Florida. When we finally board I have a 22 hour trip to look forward to. 

I started out from a Metro station in Virginia, carrying a 50 pound frame pack and a laptop carrier on my shoulder. Then I tried to buy a Metro ticket.  

A few years ago Metro stopped issuing farecards and required everyone to buy a "Smart card" to load fare money onto. I already had a "Smart card" but it would not work. So I had to buy a new one and load the fare onto it. But the instructions for doing so were not at all clear and I wound up being repeatedly offered tourist passes. Finally I located a station manager who got me what I thought was a card loaded with five bucks, enough to get me to Union Station in D.C. where the Greyhound terminal has been re-located.

Loaded down like a pack mule I squoze my way through the fare gates and onto the train. Once I was at Union Station I got off, only to find I had to put in another 40 cents to exit the station using a procedure similar to the megillah I went through when getting the card.

There were NO signs in Union Station directing people to Greyhound, just a couple arrows that said "Buses". Finally I found the "station".  Holy hell.

Back in the 1970s the Greyhound terminal was on New York Avenue NW. It had ticket windows, a waiting lounge, and a bar and grill on the upper level. And there were lockers where you could stash your bulky baggage and walk around for a bit as you waited for your bus.  This place is just a kiosk in the middle of a concrete plaza somewhere in back of the station. There is a semi-heated glass enclosed waiting area, but THERE ARE NO DAMNED LOCKERS AND YOU HAVE TO KEEP YOUR BAGGAGE AND CHECK IT AT BUS SIDE WHEN YOU LEAVE which means you have to lug it everywhere or risk having it stolen. I guess that's why it's called "Luggage".

Right now the waiting room is filling up with what looks to be the Deaf Lesbians Society. Funny but they are annoyingly loud.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

A FAREWELL TO THE ALEXANDRIA VIRGINIA TAXICAB INDUSTRY

After almost 41 years of making my living behind the wheel of a taxicab, the time has come to retire. I am 65 years old and it's damned time. 

I can't say the decision is entirely voluntary. Last year I was involved in an accident with an Alexandria city bus. No one was injured (Thanks be to God!) but the City filed a claim for four grand. That policy expires on the 21st of this month. It would have been renewed but for one teensy detail. 

Yesterday I was driving down King Street in Old Town when a woman decided she was just by-god gonna jump into traffic and anybody approaching had damn well better stop. Long story short, our side mirrors hit. Mine was bent back as designed. Hers was destroyed. And I found out that although this crap was NOT MY FAULT; even so if she files a claim my policy will be cancelled. 

So, it's time I got out of this fucked-up industry anyway. 

No, it's not the advent of UBER, Lyft, and the rest of these quasi-legal "gypsy cab" phone apps calling themselves "ride-share" services. These services are losing money and circling the bowl, with Uber as usual in the lead. These services are used by Millenials and cheapskates, and they can have them. To do what a cab driver does requires the "right stuff" and the stuff most ride-share drivers have is WRONG.

I began driving with Red Top Cab of Arlington VA back in November of 1977. Back then one was required to pass a rather rigourous program of training before being allowed to lease and drive a cab.  The drivers also got their fudge thoroughly packed by the company. So I switched to the (defunct) Diamond Cab of Arlington. I also racked up so many points for speeding that I had to quit for six months. 

After that I went to Alexandria Diamond (also now defunct). I passed the City hack exam and went to work, but my traffic record was still too messy and the City refused me a permanent permit. I just stuck my expired Arlington permit up on the visor and started working from just after the Hack Inspector went home until he came back to work. That lasted until an Alexandria cop became suspicious and checked my permit in the fall of 1979. 

The next 14 years were spent as a store detective, a short-order cook, a private investigator, and a regional courier. By the summer of 1994, all the old hack inspectors had retired and my traffic record had cleared up.  I obtained an Arlington permit and worked with Arlington Yellow until 1997, when again i switched to Alexandria Diamond. 

 I was immediately appalled at the state into which the industry had fallen. In the 1970s most of the drivers were American military veterans who knew how to communicate by radio. Now the industry was awash with foreigners who picked up the mike (MIKE! not "MIC" and stop that crap!) and said: "Hello? Hello? Hello?".   But there was plenty of business, and I quickly fell back into the old groove. 

Back in the day, cab companies were run mostly by people who had been drivers before. But sometime around the turn of the millennium one cab company began to be handled by "professional managers" who had never driven a hack for a living in their lives. 

Back in the day, a driver could earn fifty bucks, decide it was time for dinner or a swim, then come back to work and earn another hundred. It was freedom and it was good. 

Then around 2005, the leadership of Alexandria Yellow decided that it would be good to REQUIRE all drivers to accept plastic for all trips. The advantage of course was that nobody got a nickle until the company got their cut -- ALL OF IT.  Goodbye, freedom; and fuck that. I and Yellow parted ways and I joined with a 2nd rate company that gave me a piece of junk to drive. The damn thing broke down so often I wound up getting thrown out of my residence because I don't get paid for sitting in the shop. 

Right now as I write I am working to make all the CASH I can before the policy is cancelled and I have to turn in the hack. After that, I plan to go to Florida and find something to do. Maybe I'll become a beachcomber. One thing is certain: I'll never again give a fuck what happens to the industry I once loved. I am retiring effective Monday March 19 2018.

Ahhhhhh.....

Sunday, March 11, 2018

AN OPEN LETTER TO PARKLAND SURVIVOR DAVID HOGG

To David Hogg, the Parkland, Florida massacre survivor who has been shooting his teenage mouth off about things he doesn't understand and acting like a brat, even hanging up the phone on President Trump:

Dear Child:

We at the Alexandria Daily Poop wish first of all to tell you that we understand the horror you and your classmates went through as you hid in a closet and made video records of what for all you knew were your last minutes of life.  And we agree with you that this is completely unacceptable. 

However we also find the things you and your cohort have been "demanding" (how very cute!) to be both unacceptable and based on Leftist lies. 

Your proposed "solutions" revolve around the control and banning of certain firearms. FIREARMS ARE NOT THE PROBLEM HERE.  Moreover, it is impossible to take firearms of any sort away from the bad guys.  If we wanted to have a submachine gun, for instance, we could make a variant of the old M3 "Grease gun" in a friend's basement. It would take all of 12 hours and less than two hundred buck's worth of sheet metal steel rods and pipe. Look the weapon up on You Tube. Imagine if Mr. Cruz had an M3.  

You, David, are now popular (We bet the chicks are all over you. We hope you use Brylcream(c) in your hair, as we are given to understand that the wimmens love to run their fingers through it). But we fear your popularity is due to your doing what so many teenagers wish so passionately to do: stand up to the adults and tell us we are full of shit.  You and your pals are being used as tools to attempt to completely disarm the American People.  I guarantee you your Leftist backers will quickly drop you and even try to destroy your young life should you EVER demand solutions to the REAL problem. 

The real problem is that Mr. Cruz literally did everything short of taking out a full page newspaper ad warning of what he was going to do. But he evaded trouble even after committing serious crimes because of a - words fail us - misbegotten and asinine policy designed to keep "minority" kids from going to prison after high school.  In accordance with this policy Mr. Cruz was allowed to "skate" on several offenses which would have wound up with either him in custody and unable to shoot up a school or on a local law enforcement watch list.  If the government had done its job, 14 kids and 3 adults would be alive today.  THAT's what you kids ought to be focusing on.

However, dearest David, focus on THESE concerns and just watch how fast all the free pussy dries up (You are interested in pussy, aren't you?). The praise the media has been showering on you will end, and you may even wind up facing criminal charges. (I wouldn't worry about that. Under Trump you're safe from political abuse of the Justice Department).  

David, when we were a child it was possible to order an M1 Garand .30-06 semiautomatic rifle form Sears or Montgomery Ward and have it shipped COD to your doorstep via the United States Post Office. And we NEVER had ANYTHING like Parkland or Columbine happen.  

It is NOT firearms that are the problem, David. If you want to show your leadership, then address the real problem. The trouble is, your peers don't want to hear it. 


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