The other day I was driving my usual car. Two weeks prior to this fateful day I had reported issues with the car to my dispatcher. The two issues reported were the ABS and the TCS. These systems are also called the Anti-lock braking system, and the Traction control system. Herein referred to as The issues. The warning lights for the issues were both illuminated on the instrument cluster. I knew the TCS was not working properly due to tire slippage on wet roads during acceleration. I ,therefore, assumed that the ABS was also not working properly. All that being said, I alerted the proper authorities. I was told to bring the car in for the night and it would be taken in for repairs the next day. Arriving at work the following day I was shocked to see my car still in the staging area and even more shocked when I was told to just drive it. So it started, my fateful day.
The other day I was driving my usual car. I know I said that already but it needed to be said again. The roads were wet. It was raining. Not a terribly heavy rain. Just enough to piss people off. As I was exiting one freeway and merging onto another via a long uphill bridge, the two cars in front of me slammed on their brakes. I followed suit but, A-HA! The issues man, the issues. Both systems ARE required to stop a car on a wet road in the rain. Needless to say, my car did not stop in time. I plowed into the car in front of me who then hit the car in front of him.
This would normally be written up as a "my fault" accident. That is how the owner of my company saw it too. I saw it as a system failure that the company was well aware of but chose to ignore. I was wrong. The owner was not made aware of the issues by the fleet manager. That is until I was told that I would have to pay the $1,000.00 deductible as required by the insurance policy. Now he is well aware of the issues and is also questioning the job performance of the fleet manager who simply needed to fix the damned car.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
The tag along
Apparently, there are nice people left in the world. Unfortunately, there are also some jackasses still here too. Sometimes the two are friends. Most of the time, they are merely co workers. All the time, they are polar opposites. Comic book villain material. Yin and yang, salt and pepper, minus left eye.
We as chauffeurs often do multiple meeting reservations. That being where there are many meetings in a few different locations in a single day. Sometimes, after the last meeting, we pick up an extra passenger. The tag along. He is the jackass. He does not know of his status though. To him, he is a normal guy. To everyone else, jackass!
The tag along is picked up as a courtesy. It is not expected, nor should it be. He sometimes has a taxi waiting there or on the way there to pick him up. The tag along quickly becomes the focal point of the last leg of the journey. This is usually to the airport. He is loud, overly boisterous, and incredibly unfunny. Except to himself. He always has the biggest bag and the smallest job. Like I said, jackass.
Despite the reservation being made by someone other that the tag along, he somehow makes it his responsibility to "settle up" the trip. And as always, his comments are unwelcome both by his companions and his chauffeur. There it comes... my favorite question. Not by the passenger I have driven around all day but by the jackass tag along. To quote a great comedy movie, "Thanks a lot Bin Laden."
We as chauffeurs often do multiple meeting reservations. That being where there are many meetings in a few different locations in a single day. Sometimes, after the last meeting, we pick up an extra passenger. The tag along. He is the jackass. He does not know of his status though. To him, he is a normal guy. To everyone else, jackass!
The tag along is picked up as a courtesy. It is not expected, nor should it be. He sometimes has a taxi waiting there or on the way there to pick him up. The tag along quickly becomes the focal point of the last leg of the journey. This is usually to the airport. He is loud, overly boisterous, and incredibly unfunny. Except to himself. He always has the biggest bag and the smallest job. Like I said, jackass.
Despite the reservation being made by someone other that the tag along, he somehow makes it his responsibility to "settle up" the trip. And as always, his comments are unwelcome both by his companions and his chauffeur. There it comes... my favorite question. Not by the passenger I have driven around all day but by the jackass tag along. To quote a great comedy movie, "Thanks a lot Bin Laden."
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Your reservation
At least twice a week it happens. I am standing.... Let me start at the beginning. When a client makes a reservation, they receive a copy of the manifest. It tells them everything they need to know. Where to go when the plane lands, the chauffeur's name, the final destination, and everything else. Meeting at the baggage claim for your flight is the standard. A curbside meeting is optional and must be requested.
That being said. At least twice a week it happens. I am standing at the required baggage claim. The pilot has advised the passengers of said baggage claim. They all know where to go unless they are deaf or stupid. Not to mention, The manifest tells them I will be there. I wait, holding my sign. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes pass. My phone rings. "Where are you?" Asks dispatch. "I am standing at the baggage claim." "Your passenger is standing curbside 10 gates away!" Fuck!
It seems that no matter how many times you tell, show, retell and reiterate, a few idiots will always walk out the first door they see and then get pissed at their chauffeur when he is not standing right there waiting. PEOPLE, YOU ARE TOLD THREE OR FOUR TIMES WHERE TO GO! The reservation tells you. Your pilot tells you. The video screen tells you, and if you had a travel planner, then they told you. Do not dare to get angry with your chauffeur for not being able to read the mind of a fool. That one is on you.
That being said. At least twice a week it happens. I am standing at the required baggage claim. The pilot has advised the passengers of said baggage claim. They all know where to go unless they are deaf or stupid. Not to mention, The manifest tells them I will be there. I wait, holding my sign. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes pass. My phone rings. "Where are you?" Asks dispatch. "I am standing at the baggage claim." "Your passenger is standing curbside 10 gates away!" Fuck!
It seems that no matter how many times you tell, show, retell and reiterate, a few idiots will always walk out the first door they see and then get pissed at their chauffeur when he is not standing right there waiting. PEOPLE, YOU ARE TOLD THREE OR FOUR TIMES WHERE TO GO! The reservation tells you. Your pilot tells you. The video screen tells you, and if you had a travel planner, then they told you. Do not dare to get angry with your chauffeur for not being able to read the mind of a fool. That one is on you.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The white truck
I would like to let the readers know a little something. I am going to let the cat out of the bag. I do not own, make payments, pay the insurance, or maintain the car I drive. I simply drive it. It is also painfully obvious to any other driver on the road that it is a limo and that I am a limo driver. A 2006 Lincoln Town Car with super dark tinted windows and custom tags should say it all.
Due to the tint on the windows, it is nearly impossible to determine my status. Am I with a passenger? Am I even aware of your existence? Let me assure you, I do know you are there. Right there, six inches from my rear bumper going 75 down the highway in the fast lane. Please be aware that I am not afraid to stomp my left foot on the brake pedal and allow you to slam into the back of the car. As I said before, I do not own the car.
I can not count the number of times per day it happens. I get cut off. I get tailgated. I get swerved at. I get flipped off. All by people who are in too big of a hurry to begin with. And the worst offender of all? The white pickup truck. The truck its self makes the driver feel invincible. I understand that fact of life. Then to add to the insanity, white is the cheapest color to make. Therefore, what you get is a cheap, invincible, idiot who thinks his truck entitles him to the entire road all at once.
If you ever find yourself driving in Texas and see an accident involving a Town Car and a white truck, And the suited driver is laughing, stop and say hi.
Due to the tint on the windows, it is nearly impossible to determine my status. Am I with a passenger? Am I even aware of your existence? Let me assure you, I do know you are there. Right there, six inches from my rear bumper going 75 down the highway in the fast lane. Please be aware that I am not afraid to stomp my left foot on the brake pedal and allow you to slam into the back of the car. As I said before, I do not own the car.
I can not count the number of times per day it happens. I get cut off. I get tailgated. I get swerved at. I get flipped off. All by people who are in too big of a hurry to begin with. And the worst offender of all? The white pickup truck. The truck its self makes the driver feel invincible. I understand that fact of life. Then to add to the insanity, white is the cheapest color to make. Therefore, what you get is a cheap, invincible, idiot who thinks his truck entitles him to the entire road all at once.
If you ever find yourself driving in Texas and see an accident involving a Town Car and a white truck, And the suited driver is laughing, stop and say hi.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The bane of......
I love rules. There are rules for everything in the world. Rules for eating, rules for dating, rules for driving and rules for sports. Everywhere we turn, there are rules. In my business there are many, many rules to follow. We must be TSA permitted in order to pick up clients at the airport. We must be city permitted in order to make pick ups in certain cities. Like I said. Rules for everything.
We have two airports and many, many private fbo's in my area. Having that many people traveling on business affords many opportunities for work. It is, however, illegal to set a reservation (book a ride) on site. This part of the job is one way we differ from the garden variety taxi company. In order for us to make a pick up at an airport, there must be an existing reservation and you must have the manifest in hand. This would not be an issue if we were only there for a few jobs a week. However, 90% of our business is prearranged travel from or to the airport.
The bane of my existence, therefore, is when I get approached by the ground transportation cops, asked for my badges and manifest, and generally harassed for what seems like an eternity. Sometimes with the client in my presence. Meanwhile, on the curb, sits an unlicensed, unpermitted, "Egyptian Limo" booking rides for $50 cash. Does he get accosted? Do they ask him for his manifest? Hell no. When he sees them coming, he just drives away. He is not stealing my business. He is making me and all the others like me look like fools for spending money and time in line on permits. Permits that he proves every day are useless.
Dear airports around the country. If you have no desire to enforce the permit rules, then do away with the permits themselves. I like to think that the people representing my beloved industry are decent and trustworthy. I am learning that something stinks in paradise. And it ain't the toilet.
We have two airports and many, many private fbo's in my area. Having that many people traveling on business affords many opportunities for work. It is, however, illegal to set a reservation (book a ride) on site. This part of the job is one way we differ from the garden variety taxi company. In order for us to make a pick up at an airport, there must be an existing reservation and you must have the manifest in hand. This would not be an issue if we were only there for a few jobs a week. However, 90% of our business is prearranged travel from or to the airport.
The bane of my existence, therefore, is when I get approached by the ground transportation cops, asked for my badges and manifest, and generally harassed for what seems like an eternity. Sometimes with the client in my presence. Meanwhile, on the curb, sits an unlicensed, unpermitted, "Egyptian Limo" booking rides for $50 cash. Does he get accosted? Do they ask him for his manifest? Hell no. When he sees them coming, he just drives away. He is not stealing my business. He is making me and all the others like me look like fools for spending money and time in line on permits. Permits that he proves every day are useless.
Dear airports around the country. If you have no desire to enforce the permit rules, then do away with the permits themselves. I like to think that the people representing my beloved industry are decent and trustworthy. I am learning that something stinks in paradise. And it ain't the toilet.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Reversal of fortunes
Too many times in my line of work, we prejudge people. We see them as tippers or not, talkative or quiet, you get the idea. I know this practice is wrong on multiple levels. It is considered profiling by some and racist by others, depending on how you prejudge.
There was a rather large concert in my city recently. I was charged with taking a big family from out of town to the show and then back to their private plane. There were ten total passengers. Four were female and six were male. Eight were older and two were teenagers. After the plane landed and I got them into the car, one of them asked to be taken to a restaurant. Upon arrival, another man asked me "Is this a good place to eat?" To which I replied "I would assume so due to the location." (There are no bad eateries in that area.)
Dinner was over so on the the show. We arrived at the venue and I noticed the parking passes they had purchased were not valid for my vehicle type in the lot specified. They bought the wrong pass. I was forced to drop them off farther from the entrance than expected. I then had no place to park. (Concert goes on.)
The show ended and I got the phone call. "Where are you?" After much fussing and frustration, we met up on the street. In my efforts to get them into the car quickly, I left the main lanes and pulled into a blocked off lane. We were now stuck and at the mercy of other concert goers who just wanted to get home. Finally we were allowed to merge. I got them to the plane after a short ride and they left the car. My favorite question peeked out from the night. I told him yes. This was the reversal of fortunes. He pulled a couple of bills from his wallet and handed them to me. As not to look rude, I slipped them into my suit pocket and said "Thank you sir." "How was the show?" he said it was good and they boarded the plane. Driving out of the FBO, I pulled the two bills out of my pocket. There in my hand were two, beautiful, slightly used, one hundred dollar bills. That will teach me not to prejudge.
There was a rather large concert in my city recently. I was charged with taking a big family from out of town to the show and then back to their private plane. There were ten total passengers. Four were female and six were male. Eight were older and two were teenagers. After the plane landed and I got them into the car, one of them asked to be taken to a restaurant. Upon arrival, another man asked me "Is this a good place to eat?" To which I replied "I would assume so due to the location." (There are no bad eateries in that area.)
Dinner was over so on the the show. We arrived at the venue and I noticed the parking passes they had purchased were not valid for my vehicle type in the lot specified. They bought the wrong pass. I was forced to drop them off farther from the entrance than expected. I then had no place to park. (Concert goes on.)
The show ended and I got the phone call. "Where are you?" After much fussing and frustration, we met up on the street. In my efforts to get them into the car quickly, I left the main lanes and pulled into a blocked off lane. We were now stuck and at the mercy of other concert goers who just wanted to get home. Finally we were allowed to merge. I got them to the plane after a short ride and they left the car. My favorite question peeked out from the night. I told him yes. This was the reversal of fortunes. He pulled a couple of bills from his wallet and handed them to me. As not to look rude, I slipped them into my suit pocket and said "Thank you sir." "How was the show?" he said it was good and they boarded the plane. Driving out of the FBO, I pulled the two bills out of my pocket. There in my hand were two, beautiful, slightly used, one hundred dollar bills. That will teach me not to prejudge.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Is it really necessary?
I am constantly at the airport picking up strangers. It is the biggest part of the job. Unless you are a repeat client or a celebrity, I do not know you from Adam. It is nothing personal. I just do not know what every person in the world looks like. This brings me to the point of this blog.
As a professional chauffeur, I have the need to carry name signs. They typically bear the name of my passenger or their company. My sign, of course, is so they know who their ride is. Needless to say, the sign is essential to success.
I know that you all think I have a glamorous job. At least I think you do. The first question I get when my occupation is divulged is usually " Have you driven any famous people?" Yes I have, and no I will NOT tell you who. All that being said. You are not being slick when you walk in front of me, and from the corner of your eye, take a quick glance at the name on the sign. I do see you and you are not very sly. You fail at spying. Is it really necessary to see what famous person I am driving on any given day. I have gone so far as to put "no one you know" on a name sign and laugh at anyone that reads it. Your curiosity is predictable and sad all at the same time. STOP IT!
As a professional chauffeur, I have the need to carry name signs. They typically bear the name of my passenger or their company. My sign, of course, is so they know who their ride is. Needless to say, the sign is essential to success.
I know that you all think I have a glamorous job. At least I think you do. The first question I get when my occupation is divulged is usually " Have you driven any famous people?" Yes I have, and no I will NOT tell you who. All that being said. You are not being slick when you walk in front of me, and from the corner of your eye, take a quick glance at the name on the sign. I do see you and you are not very sly. You fail at spying. Is it really necessary to see what famous person I am driving on any given day. I have gone so far as to put "no one you know" on a name sign and laugh at anyone that reads it. Your curiosity is predictable and sad all at the same time. STOP IT!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
My favorite question
I do not know how many of you out there are chauffeurs like myself. Frankly, I do not care. The point of this particular blog is to address the question we all get and the clients somehow all know to ask. "Is the tip included?" AAAAARRRRGH!!!!! Legally, yes, the tip is included. IT IS CALLED MY PAY AND THE COMPANY PROVIDES IT TO ME AS A WAGE! If you are too cheap to reach into your fat pocket and pull out a $5 then do me a favor. Stop asking if the tip is included.
I have seen countless occasions where, at the hotel, the guy who loads the single suitcase is tipped a $10 or even a $5. After all, he did have to put the suitcase in a car trunk. I guess he deserves a small tip of sorts. But me, The guy who literally holds your precious life in my steering-wheel-clutching hands? I get the friggin shaft on the money train? How is this right? The doorman who literally barely lifted a finger gets tipped but the professional chauffeur who got you safely, and quickly to your destination, gets nothing but a stupid question. My fiance gets snippy with me for tipping the girl who delivers my order at Sonic. I tell her "Those who live on tips tip."
To the end now. A tip is not always deserved. Nor is it always expected. I know when have blown a tip and when I have earned one. We all do. If you do not wish to tip, then just walk away. Do not ask me "Is the tip included?"
I have seen countless occasions where, at the hotel, the guy who loads the single suitcase is tipped a $10 or even a $5. After all, he did have to put the suitcase in a car trunk. I guess he deserves a small tip of sorts. But me, The guy who literally holds your precious life in my steering-wheel-clutching hands? I get the friggin shaft on the money train? How is this right? The doorman who literally barely lifted a finger gets tipped but the professional chauffeur who got you safely, and quickly to your destination, gets nothing but a stupid question. My fiance gets snippy with me for tipping the girl who delivers my order at Sonic. I tell her "Those who live on tips tip."
To the end now. A tip is not always deserved. Nor is it always expected. I know when have blown a tip and when I have earned one. We all do. If you do not wish to tip, then just walk away. Do not ask me "Is the tip included?"
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