No Patience for the Garage Sale Gent

‘Geez,” I uttered under my breath, after the gent says, “drop me here, drop me here, I’ll walk.”
Disconcerted was the feeling I felt, after the numerous other commands, directions and opinions he barked at me as we drove up into the hills behind Dominican University in San Rafael.
“Sure you don’t want a ride the rest of the way,” I said.
“Nope,” he says stroking the ornate handle of his cane, jiggling his turquoise necklace and oozing some odd cologne. “For this garage sale, I don’t want them to see me arriving in a taxi….get better prices that way.’
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“Here you go,” he says as he hands me $9. (no tip) for the drive and my attempts at patience.
“Great, fine, thanks. Hope you fine some treasure.” I say, as he exits with my foot poised on the gas pedal. I try to be nice.
Half way down the block I say, “Geez” out loud this time. I notice the garage sale gentleman has left the odor of his cheap perfume in my cab. “Geez,” I announce, one more time, to no one but me.

One thought on “No Patience for the Garage Sale Gent

  1. Just found your Cabbie Blog through The San Fransisco Urban Sketchers. Really am enjoying it and the sketches and am glad that you have a feed to my Google Reader.

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