Twenty years behind the wheel shapes a man. It teaches you some valuable lessons, and also somethings you probably would be better off not knowing.
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My father was a driver, he made a life-long career of it and it was he who suggested I give it a go. Twenty years was plenty for me, and I'm happy that I got out ( about ten years ago ). I remember well that first day, and asking him how to drive a taxi.
He told me, "There's no way I can teach you how to do this, every body's different so you'll have to learn as you go. But I can teach you ten thousand things not to do..." His thou shalt nots served me well for the few years it took for me to get a good idea of what I was doing behind that wheel.
To be a good taxi driver, you absolutely must learn every hustle known to man ( and I believe each and every hustle was conceived on the banks of the Nile in ancient Egypt by a guy with a chariot trying to make a buck between Pharaoh's wars ). You can't ever use those hustles because they are not at all new and sure to bring you grief. But you can't let yourself be hustled either. That's what Dad was trying to tell me.
Driving a taxi is like most businesses that require a license. The public perception is that you're out there to provide a service. The private consensus is that you are out there looking for people with money, who are willing to give it to you. Then you drop them off and look for someone else with money that they're willing to part with. Carrying groceries for sweet little old ladies is all well, and good but it won't pay for your gas much less the lease on you vehicle.
That's why this guy is sitting in front of a Casino, instead of a supermarket. If he's knows his trade, he'll spot that one in a hundred winner and take him for a ride. If he's understands why he's out there, he'll take the money home and resist the temptation to go through those Casino doors. Good luck with that dude...
Here's wisdom, quit while you're ahead. That's why I'm working a nine to five job in a rural America.
