Dear Veteran Cab Company of Windsor Ontario:

This holiday season, I had the pleasure of spending a week in the great province of Ontario, more specifically, the beautiful city of Toronto. While visiting the city, I had the opportunity to use various methods of transportation to peruse the town and visit several sites of interest. There was quite a bit of walking as well as an opportunity to use Toronto’s very fine subway system. And because the frigid weather became, at times, too harsh to bear, my traveling companion and I oftentimes chose to forgo facing the inclement weather and instead hailed one of the many cabs that were constantly traversing the cold city streets.

I must say that all of our experiences with the taxi services while in Toronto were pleasurable. The drivers were courteous and attentive. They were diligent when it came to putting our luggage in the trunk of their vehicles. They were chatty without being intrusive and they got us to our destinations in a safe and timely fashion. After a few days, I began to realize that when one is sitting in the back of a cab with a competent driver, the outside world can disappear for a short while and the rider can kind of dissolve into their own daydreams because the person behind the wheel has everything well in hand.

That was Toronto. Six days of ignorant bliss.Then came Windsor. What is it they say about rotten apples?

Instead of just relaying to you the details of our ragtag journey with your cab company and our odoriferous chauffeur, perhaps I should give you a few suggestions and observations and this may help you along the road to making the proper adjustments.

1) Don’t Hate - Participate

When you’re standing out in the freezing cold, waiting for a cab, the last thing you want to hear from the cabbie when you get in the car is “You shouldn’t stand there. Nobody will pick you up.” First of all, you may not realize this, but you are saying this as I am sitting in the car!. So, while your argument that you may be a nobody will not receive much push back from me, I think your statement was proven false even before you decided to make it. Secondly, instead of sitting on your ass making completely unnecessary and annoying statements, how about getting out of the car and doing your job. Which leads me to…

2) Unless My Name Is Hoke (which it isn’t) and Your Name is Ms. Daisy, I Shouldn’t Be Struggling To Put MY Luggage In The Trunk Of YOUR Taxi

So, you (Mr. Nobody) agree to give us a ride. I know this because you pop the trunk on your cab when we walk up. Now, by this point, I am used to cabbies popping their trunks, then rushing from the driver side of the vehicle to help me and my companion put our luggage in the trunk. I wouldn’t even call it helping us. We didn’t have to do anything. The drivers scurried to the curb, picked up our luggage and with kid gloves, placed our bags in the clean and spacious trunk of their car. So forgive me for making the assumption that you would do the same. Instead, we get the trunk popped from the inside of your warm vehicle, and you sit there and wait. As a result, I am forced to attempt to put my and my companion’s luggage in the trunk. I emphasize the word attempt. To understand why, see the next suggestion. Anyway, when you popped the trunk and ignorantly sat there waiting for us, you may have heard another popping sound. It was your tip balloon quickly deflating.

3) Spare Tires Are For Chubby Dudes and Hoopties

Tell me, Veteran Cab Co. of Windsor Ontario, who had the bright idea to put spare tires in the trunks of your cabs? Please tell me, because I would like to punch that gentleman in the left nostril.

Placing our luggage in the trunk of the cab was much more of a chore than it should have been because there was a rather large, soot-covered spare tire sitting there. So over half the space in the trunk was overtaken by this fucking ferris wheel of a tire straight out of Fred Sanford’s junkyard. Why was it there in the first place? If a cab gets a flat, what do you do? You call the dispatcher and have him send another cab! And I am quite sure you have some towing company on retainer to come out and fix the flat or tow the injured cab back to the station. Either way, there is no reason why my suitcase should have to sit on top of a grease and road-grit laden tire.

4) Soap And Water, My Friend. Soap And Water

Unless Christian Dior just came out with a new fragrance called Ass and Cigarettes, I’m pretty sure our driver was in desperate need of a bath. Here’s the key to bathing: Make it a daily routine, not weekly. The only thing worse then standing out in single digit windchills, is settling down in the back seat of a car that wreaks of menthols and ball sweat. I believe in smoke breaks. I do. Everyone needs some way of winding down. But here’s an idea. How about doing it outside of the vehicle? It keeps the interior of the car smelling fresh (other than the rank smell of taint sweat) and makes the trip that much more pleasurable for the people who are actually paying for the ride. And while Mrs. Nobody may find your B.O. sexually stimulating and irresistible, I found that it continuously triggered my gag reflex. Tell me, how can one man smell like the ass crack of the entire Atlanta Falcons defensive line after a triple overtime game in 100 degree weather? Quite a feat, my friend. I believe there was a Seinfeld episode written about you. And while we are on the subject of cleanliness…

7) Retire This Baby

This cab needed a shot of penicillin. Pasty, grime painted windows. Seat backs vomiting their innards. It was the kind of cab I imagine one of Tom Waits’ creations would have felt right at home in. I didn’t even want to sit in this thing. If I had the strength, I would have squatted the whole time like a soccer mom in a port-o-potty. Cabs should be like miniature apartments on wheels. Okay, that’s expecting too much. But if you’re sitting in the back of a cab and in your head you’re hearing Travis Bickle say, “Each night when I return the cab to the garage, I have to clean the cum off the back seat. Some nights, I clean off the blood.”, then you know you’re in a pretty shitty cab. Send that thing to the taxi graveyard - please!

6) Get Off The Phone!!

While most of our cab drivers were afflicted with that hideous growth that protruded from their ears and blinked incessantly (the insidious Bluetooth), you seemed to be the only one who appeared to pay more attention to the assclown on the other end of the phone than to your paying customers. “We want to go to — oh, I’m sorry. Let us know when you are done so we can actually tell you where we want to go!” And speaking of that…

7) Location, Location, Location

When your passengers tell you to go to the Holiday Inn Select and you attempt to end the trip by pulling into the parking lot of the Hilton (miles away from the desired location), how do you think such a faux pas could have occurred? Simple mistake? No. Mental Dyslexia? Hmmm…possibly. Most likely though, it is the fact that you were so busy mumbling to that glowing god in your ear, you didn’t take time to pay attention to the directions. As a result, we end up paying more because you just heard the H sound and you were off and running. I guess we’re lucky we didn’t end up at a haberdashery or a whorehouse.

The worst cab ride ever? For me, yes. When we finally did arrive at our final destination, the cab driver did not leap out to help us extract our luggage from the trunk. He only came around when he saw that I was struggling to detach my bag from the hungry jaws of that dirty tire’s tread. All he wanted was his money. And then, he was off like a funky thief in the night to pick up some other sap. My travel partner tipped the gentleman sixty cents, which in my opinion was seventy five cents too much.

Get it together Veteran Cab Co. of Windsor Ontario. I was a very dissatisfied customer. And if you wonder why I repeatedly spelled out your company name, it is because I hope that Google searches for your company will lead weary travelers to this blog. And maybe they will find an alternate, more hygienically friendly means of transportation.

Sincerely,
Recently Deloused Passenger #157