Bureaucracy, and Launch Time

So, here we are...

Today, I went back in to get my repeat drug test. To those of you not following the drama so far, I had a major arthritis flare up the morning of my first drug test. True to form, I was in enough pain that I took a vicodin to knock the pain down. After all, I didn't want to go into the driver physical limping all around.

Now, the first "bad on me" was the fact that I could have waited until the day after to do the physical. I wasn't going to be ready to start driving until today/tomorrowish anydoggoneway. Nevertheless, I went in, took a urinalysis not less than 8 hours after having a vicodin and WHAMMO popped hot for opiates. Duh...

I've already detailed the BS chain last time, so moving forward I'll simply say that I went ahead and made sure I didn't take any vicodin, regardless of any pain I felt over the weekend. Luckily, I had no additional flare ups, and I was going to knock them down with my steroids and OTCs, regardless. I went in this morning, whizzed in the whiz quiz bottle and... sho 'nuffins, I was clean.

However, that was not the end of the clinic causing drama for me. They decided not to include the results of my physical in my packet to the City inspectors. So, after a grouchy call to them (and believe me, I was fuckin' grouchy... there was already enough time lost over this shit), they told me they had my original schedule M (medical) at their office. It sounds less dramatic than it was, but I was getting so much double speak from the person answering the phone, as if she just didn't want to freakin help, that I was steaming out of both ears and physically shaking in the Inspector's office. This isn't a good thing when you're sharing space with law enforcement officers and other people taking other tests for various and sundry security clearances. Needless to say, I finally impressed upon the person on the other end of the phone that they were holding onto a piece of paperwork that they weren't supposed to be withholding from me. My shuttle driver, Ms Brown, was kind enough to run me back over to the clinic and back to the Inspector's office at the airport where I was issued my 30 day temporary taxi and limousine driver's licenses. The nitwit at the clinic, by the way, had my schedule M already sealed in an envelope and was holding it out in her extended arm as I entered her little place of work. I can honestly say that this was the first time in a very long time that I had let any situation of any kind torque my nuts like that. But damn, I quit a perfectly good job to try this and being up to my ass in bureaucracy, compounded by other people's incompetence, was getting on my last nerve.

At any rate, it's long since over, and I'm quite over it. However, writing about it is definitely a good final catharsis.

From this point, I got walked around to my various jumping off points and got treated to my own comedy of errors. This is also known as the "FNG Blues." =)

I went to the cashiers office to secure my initial issues of things I would need to work out in the field: credit card imprinter, key map of Houston/Harris County, voucher slips for the Metro Lift program, credit card receipts, cash receipts and finally... I was given a vehicle.

Cab 1358... heretofore known as "The Crunkmobile," and it shall be known as the same in all perpetuity until I get another one. As far as I can tell, it's the Mercury version of Ford's Crown Victoria, with 151,000 miles on it, and the rear seats have ground-in dirt that I can't even get away with complaining about. I could probably take it over to a place like Colonial Car Wash and pay 40- bucks for them to TRY and get the stains out, but I fear it'd be a fruitless endeavor. I'm a new guy, and I'm going to get a piece of shit car until I get about 3 weeks down the line. My best strategy is to put my best foot forward in terms of my own attitude and personal appearance and make any necessary apologies for the vehicle I was given if it comes up in conversation.

It was also less than perfect in other ways as well. I had to go get a self-insurance certificate for it. I found out that this was nothing more than getting a xerox copy of a standard notice instead of something printed for that specific vehicle. Anyway. I got it, I folded it, and it's in the otherwise empty glove box of the car.

Also, I had to un-train myself on the operation of the trip computer and radio. In my training class, I was told that I had to turn on the radio first before turning on the GPS/trip computer so the trip computer would have a data channel to transmit on. True enough. But, because of the crunk-ass electrical system in this car, and the bass-ackwards way they wired the computer and the radio together, you have to turn on the computer first, then the radio. I actually drove The Crunkmobile to the radio shop to find out that I had to do it in that order. The tech giggled and I rolled my eyes when I tried it myself and said, "DAY-UM! I sure feel a thousand percent smarter now, BWAH!"

Me, with the honors degree in information systems, the A+ and CCNA certifications, getting my ass kicked by a 10-channel radio in a taxicab. You may stop laughing at your own leisure. I'm not sure I haven't stopped laughing at myself yet.

My day, such as it was, took a turn for the nice when I went to get my last check from the fine folks at United Protective Services. I treated myself to lunch at Chili's, and took my truck over to the taxi yard and exchanged it for a spot in the side lot with The Crunkmobile and took The Crunker out to get it some gas and take it home. During this time, I decided to log in to the computer and run the meter on what is known as a "personal trip." Basically, any time you run your car and you don't want to get hired, you run your meter to turn off the "vacant" light. There are no "OFF DUTY" indicators on a Houston taxi like there are in New York or other major cities. Besides, this also gave me an idea of how to stop the meter and reset it at a new destination. I went to Wal-Mart to get myself a new pair of walking shoes. I wanted something black, made of fabric, and something I would NOT have to put a shine on. I'll keep them clean and neat, but I'm sick of doing the GI Joe thing with my leather shoes all the damn time. I also found a power inverter for 30 bucks that should keep my laptop running with my Cricket stick in the car and I scored some new Zebra pens. Basically, I just want the "office" aspect of what I'm doing squared away before I start working.

"Wait a minute," you may ask, "if you have a car, why aren't you running around collecting fares?"

This is the truly beautiful part of starting with Houston Yellow. My first day's lease isn't due until 1pm tomorrow. And, because it's only $9.50, I'm in no rush to run blindly out and do something crazy without re-studying some of the things I feel like I'm weak on. I'm going to look at some of the trip computer things I haven't revisited in a while (I took that class two weeks ago) and I'm not going to work until 5a.m. tomorrow. I've worked out a plan of attack with one of the licensee managers and he stated I already live in a good area of town and that I don't have to drift too far from home to go get a fare. Westheimer at the Beltway already has a good smattering of hotels, eateries... and at night, the very interesting club life on Richmond (Men of LaBare, anyone?) - and of course, I'm directly in between the Galleria and West Oaks Mall.

For now, I'm going to do one more walk around The Crunkmobile, drag all my ill-gotten gains inside the house and assemble my "office" in my laptop bag so everything has a place and is in it's place so I don't have any sneaking surprises tomorrow. I can just drag the bag out, put it in the front seat, put my 30 day temp in the license holder up front, and go get it.

You should see my get-up too. Red shirt with white collar and cuffs, my black leather vest, and a half-fedora/half-bowler hat. I shall be Sharpie McSharpenstein (tm).

Whether the first day merits a blog entry or not remains to be seen. As it is, the adventure for tonight is to figure out how I'm going to make myself go to sleep so I can get ample rest before I have to rouse myself at 4am. That should be an adventure. I want to get up early so I can do the Denny's breakfast thing. Nothing fancy, just an All-American Slam and iced tea, but I already know I'm in the mood to have someone else cook. And, if the first day is really worth shouting about, I'm probably going to finish it off by going to Anime Night at the Alamo again.

Two weeks in a row of Anime Night... can I stand the strain? Stay tuned and find out!

-MisterMan