This Christmas, I have new story about my life in Crazy Town. If you're on FB, you read the brief story and know how it ends.
This morning I got up, chatted with my daughter on FB and knitted on my mother's socks. Then I took the bus to the grocery store, which I thought would be a mad house. The bus arrived on time. It being a Saturday and Christmas Eve made that a bit strange. Not many people at the grocery and I got into an empty cashier line. Or rather no line. As I'm unloading my groceries, a man asks me if I would use his Fry's card so he could get the points to buy gas. No big deal, I don't have a car, not going to use the points. So I swipe his store card instead of my own. Wish him a Merry Christmas.
I had too much to carry back on the bus. So, I called the Yellow Cab. It's only a mile and a half cab ride, usually. Queue the creepy music. Things had been going too smoothly. First call, I realize I had given the dispatch the wrong number to my cell. So, I call them back to give them the right number. They say, they have cab #1601 on it's way. I make a mental note of the number.
Cab shows up. I pull the grocery cart up to the back. He just pops the trunk, but doesn't get out to help me put my groceries in the back. I thought it a bit strange, but ok. I check the number on the cab, #1601. Put my stuff in the trunk and get into the car. He asks me the address and takes off.
I look up at the meter and it was $4.50. The flag drop is supposed to be $2.50. I question this. He said he started the fare when he popped the trunk. That's not right. The cab drivers have never done that to me. I pull out my cell phone and call the company right there.
While I'm on the phone with the cab company, we get close to my address. I tell him to slow down he's at my address. He steps on the gas and floors it. He drives another two miles, with me in the back of cab on the phone with dispatch. "Your driver just flew by my house and didn't stop. He's not even turning around to go back. Oh my God, what is he doing trying to kidnap me?"
For all I knew he was going to take me to Mexico. We were headed south. It wasn't until I got back and in the apartment that I remembered that I had my tazer in my pocket the whole time. Hell, I could have finally tested the thing. (Just joking. I would have if he had kept going.)
After two miles, he finally turns around and heads back. Dispatch says, "I don't know what the hell he's doing. Look it's only a mile or two from the grocery store to your home, don't pay him more than $6.00. He's obviously just driving around trying to run up the fare."
I only have a ten and one. I call Duane to see if he has a five. He almost drives by the place a second time. Duane doesn't have a five but meets me in the parking lot. I ask the driver if he has ones because there is no way I'm paying any more than $6.00 for that bit of BS. He has the meter racked up to over $12.00. He tells me to keep it and pops the trunk.
I'm so anxious to get away from that crazy cabbie, I just grab the bags that I see. I didn't notice that the bag with the Jaegger gift box had slid to the back of the trunk. I get in the house and go through the stuff. Where's the Jaegger? Damn, I must have left it in the trunk.
Duane tells me to call the cab company and report it. They try to call him on the radio and he won't respond. They take my number and say they will call me back. We wait over a half hour. I call them back. They say he's still not responding to the radio and they don't have his number to call him. I tell them, we're calling the police.
I'm still shook up by the whole experience, so Duane calls and talks to the police. We wait an hour. I'm chatting with my daughter, trying to keep her spirits up, clean the litter box. We are out of litter. Duane is trying to put up the cat tree. You know an ordinary evening here in crazy town. We wonder aloud when the police will come. I put my coat to head out to the CVS for cat litter. Just as I step out the door, the lady officer is standing there.
I recant my story to her. She tells me they have another officer headed to the cab driver's house to get my stuff. She asks was he trying to steal my stuff. I said, no, I don't think he knows it's back there. She asked if he didn't understand English. I said, "He knew enough English to say, "I dropped the flag when I popped the trunk and that is your fare."
Well, she goes out and talks on her radio. Comes back in and asks me to wait to go to the CVS for a bit. She's going back to her car and will wait to hear from her partner. Duane has me try to help him put the cat tree up. My head is pounding. (It's a cheap piece of you know what and is still lying in pieces in the middle of the floor. Duane will nail the thing together tomorrow.) I check outside every once in a while to make sure she is still in the parking lot.
Then the knock comes at the door. She is standing there with a male officer holding my bag with Jaegger. The male officer said the cabbie tried to tell him he's usually an airport cab and that is how they do things at the airport. Both of the officers thought he was full of you know what. They said I need to write a written complaint to the company. Hope I don't run into anymore crazy cabbies in the future.
While I start to write this post, I step outside for a breath of um, fresh air for a minute. I came back in, sat down and phone rang. It was my friend that had taken me back and forth to the hospital and nursing home, takes us shopping every two weeks. Last Sunday, I bought her a gift certificate for Grandmother's Spinning Wheel for a Christmas present. She bought me a big ball of merino spinning fiber and hung the bag on my door knob outside. She must have saw me out there. She was in a rush, headed to Cali to see her father.
Regarding my daughter. It breaks my heart knowing she's in that trailer in NY with no heat, no food. She's getting sick. She told me the CPS supervisor called her after I had talked to the supervisor, yesterday. The supervisor told her she wished her the best of luck and that she would let the case worker know what was going on when she came back from vacation. Can you believe that crap?? (Read yesterday's post if you haven't yet.)
I'm not saying there aren't any good social workers out there. Lest someone flame me that they're sister-in-law is a social worker and goes out of the way to help people. I'm sure there must be a few good ones somewhere. It's just I've yet to meet one. It would be kinda like spotting a unicorn.
Anyway, I have a plan. It's a good plan. Duane says it's a good plan. I can't say what it is. We don't need the wrong people to get wind of the plan. I will tell you once everyone is safe.
Finally, everyone's favorite World's Smallest Zeppelin Fan, Mr. Dammit Bunny Chewer (formerly of the Rochester Chewers).
"Merry Zepmas, everyone!"