Phase VI... Zen and The Quill

One of my stated goals for this new profession of mine was that I was going to make the time to write more. It's materialized in bits and pieces, but not to the extent that I was hoping for.

This last Sunday, I got an unexpected boost by taking some time to go downtown on Sunday and get a better lay of the land and figure out how the grid is laid out. I'm now better acquainted with some of the major landmarks... the major business buildings, hotels, courthouses, Minute Maid Park and the Toyota Center and so on. I'm not completely ensconced, but beyond my tour this Sunday, there'll be no better teacher than experience. Also, completely by accident, I got flagged down twice and it turned into about 80 bucks worth of work.

I called it "Phase III" for me because I'd been avoiding it and I thought it would be tougher than I made it out to be.

That said, there's another little mountain to climb. Airports. Herein lies the key to me getting some writing time. A typical wait at one of Houston's airports is somewhere around 3 hours for a trip that hopefully brings in an average of 50 bucks. So ideally I can get about 2-3 hours of writing done, pick up an airport trip, make a decent return on investment time-wise and then go back to doing street cabbie work the rest of the day.

Now, I'd gotten used to this idea for one real reason. I've started to get used to the notion of sitting in place instead of burning off all my gasoline going after things that may or may not pay off. I had too much of that happen during the storm yesterday when sunshine soldiers would run from the streets like scalded dogs and then I would wind up getting dispatched to trips that had been sitting for over a half hour, and in at least 6 cases, weren't at their pickup points. Averaging that out, that's in the neighborhood of 50-100 bucks that I didn't make because cabbies were leaving the streets and I was chasing after their wretched refuse. Also, I found that if I thought an area was potentially profitable, I'd sit at that location. This was the case in the Bay Area on Friday. So, now that I'm developing a tolerance for letting the grass grow under my feet a little, going to the airport to write and wait for a trip makes sense now.

Thus, begins Phase IV.

Other things of note...

I just realized last night that when I thought I'd taken my first call girl to work, that she was actually my third or fourth. That particular one, however, was the first one who tried to add me to her list of clientele. I've learned a few of the telltale signs:

1.) The nature of the cell phone conversation when she gets in the cab. Items that are giveaways tend to be "I'm wearing (item or items), is that OK?" Phrases like, "you're looking for me?" Sure, I can go to (new destination) instead.

2.) If that conversation results in you changing your destination to one of Houston's many "chain" hotels.

3.) If you get propositioned by your passenger. (OK, that's ones a little obvious)

4.) And, oddly enough, the "working girls" actually tend to be friendlier than your average night time passenger. They're true night owls and they're chirpy like someone who's on their way to an expensive lunch or dinner.

This is also the reason why I tend not to judge them harshly. Frankly, I wish all my passengers were that damn friendly. If prostitution was a regulated industry, like transportation was, instead of being stigmatized and criminalized, the women who do it would be far safer than they are now. At least in Nevada, a girl working at a ranch or brothel would have backup in the form of half a football team to come kick some guy's ass out the front door - opening the door being optional, of course.

I do have my worries, of course, about whether someone using my cab to get them to work would make me an accessory to a crime. Frankly, though... I worry more about the lady's safety than I do my own skin.

And, of course, that's why I'm also considering running the airports. I figure that way I can get some of my writing done and, if I do run into call girls or prostitutes there, I'll be meeting the ones with a sufficient travel budget for flying that they don't even call what they do prostitution.

After all, it worked for Monica Lewinsky, right?