Boston Bob's Taxi Adventures

Boston Bob is a good father, maybe too good. He came out of retirement because his only Son lost his job in New York city. BB started driving for an airport car service about 5 years ago to help his son who wanted to stay in the City. But then y'all know this if you've been reading my column in the Fort Myers Beach Bulletin, right.

Anyway, Boston Bob had a hell of a time on St. Pat's Day. Seems that his first ride was a successful recovering alcoholic lady who preached the beauty of sobriety for the entire 45 minute ride. "I told her that it was going to be hard for me to have a good time celebrating the day after she was finished."

Later in the morning he was late for a pickup at Port Royal in Naples partly because the dispatcher dispatched the ride late. He didn't bring it up because he wanted to get off early and didn't want to piss off the dispatcher.

As it turned out, his last ride was two teenage girls going to Sanibel. "I was in a 11 passenger van, a big Ford. The wind was 20 to 30 mph and the it was hard to control going over the Sanibel causeway. The van was rocking and rolling. We made it okay but when the ride was over the girls made a complaint saying I was texting and nearly running off the road all the way to Sanibel!"

"You weren't, right, so why did they say that," asked Cleveland Jack. BB had no idea. He had gone to the office and showed the GM his message log which didn't have any message in or out for that time period.

"So your okay, right? But you're not happy? Puzzled about their intentions? Well let me tell you a story about a niece of mine who was on Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale. My wife got a call from her parents saying that the niece was being held hostage by a drug dealer in a a condo," I said. "I was the closest male relative so I was sent to retrieve her. Get the picture, drug dealers, kidnappers, armed and dangerous people?"

"Did you have help? Who went with you," asked Bob.

"I was forced to take my 16 year old son with me. All the way across the Alley he kept asking if I had a gun. I told hin no but I lied. When we got to the condo building I rang the buzzer and asked them to bring her down. The disembodied voice asked us to come up but I gave him a bullshit story about he sick Grandfather. And guess what, a polite but goofy looking guy, her spring break companion's Uncle brought her down."

"Was he a drug dealer," asked Jack. He may have been but besides offering me a beer for the long ride back to Fort Myers I saw nothing else. Maybe it was hormones or her upbringing in a small Pennsylvania town, I'll never know because I didn't care. I did my job and the 'why' didn't matter. 

"I'll never understand why they did it," said Boston Bob.

"What were you carrying," asked Jack. 

"My little 32 cal pocket piece, was all but I also had 911 on my side!"