How Timothy Sexton Got Started
I was in the U.S. Navy in the 1970s and I rode cabs regularly in San Diego, California. I was always amazed at how the cab drivers knew the town and got me where I was going safely.
In Reno I just applied for the job, and after talking to the general manager, was accepted on the spot.
"My training was strictly on-the-job. I had to learn how to follow directions from the dispatcher as well as how to read a map book."
What the Job's Really Like
My duties as a taxicab driver are working with the public during my twelve-hour shift. I must put up with all kinds of people-meaning ones who have had too much to drink, or are in various moods. You also have many nice people, too.
Driving a taxi is a tedious job. You take verbal abuse from your customers because the customer is always right. You have to be on your toes at all times because the customers are always trying to run scams on you. You have customers who really do not want to pay for their ride. You are always accused of going the long way.
The first order of business in my workday is to take my co-driver home and then I head downtown to one of the local casino cab stands and wait for a customer. We also have computer dispatch, and you have the option of using the computer or not. At this point in time I rarely take dispatch calls. I do have a cellular phone so regular customers can contact me. I spend my day waiting at the cab stand for customers. I basically let the customer come to me and take them from point A to point B.
The day can be interesting when you have a lot of trips and you are making a lot of money. It's also interesting when you are meeting people from a variety of different countries and all walks of life-it makes for interesting conversation. But you have many days when you may sit for an hour waiting for a fare and then they only want to go three or four blocks.
I work anywhere from seventy to eighty-four hours per week. Sometimes I may take a half of a day off if business is really slow.
My job consists of getting out and opening doors for the elderly and female passengers. I also load luggage in the trunk of my vehicle. I am supposed to be a walking road map. I should know every street in the city. I should always be courteous to my customers. I should dress neatly and bathe regularly. I should have a clean car. I should obey the driving laws set forth by the city, county, state, and federal government.
I like the freedom of my job-being allowed making as much money as I want to. The company I work for made us independent contractors about six years ago. I make some-where in between $30,000 to $32,000 yearly, but I have to pay for my own gasoline and pay a weekly lease to the cab company. My lease at this time is $482 per week, and my co-driver, the person I share the cab with, pays half of that. It costs me about $65 per week for fuel. After figuring my lease payment and gasoline my net pay is $12,000 to $14,000. Taking care of your own taxes and Social Security can be a nightmare.
What I like the least about my work knows that I could be killed at any time for a very small amount of money. The taxi industry is rated as being the most dangerous job. You must be prepared at all times for anything and everything. Luckily, I have never been robbed, but I have been put in some very scary situations over the years.
When I was driving for Red Top Taxi in Modesto, California, I was dispatched to an apartment complex to pick up a customer. We proceeded on about a three-block ride. She told me to pull over to a bar, so I did. As I came to a stop, the police turned on their microphone and told everyone in the taxi to keep our hands where they could be seen. The officers came over to the taxi with their guns drawn. They told my customer to step out of the taxi with her hands above her head. They then promptly arrested her. But at least they had her pay the cab fare. Later on, I found out she had stabbed her boyfriend or husband with a butcher knife.
Another time, in Reno, I picked up two passengers at one of the downtown casinos. They wanted to go to the mall. On the way, I noticed we were being followed by an old Ford pickup. I changed lanes to see if my suspicions were correct. The pickup changed lanes and continued following me. At our destination, the pickup pulled in front of me, blocking me. I had no idea what was going on. All of a sudden the doors of the pickup opened and several people came running over to my cab. Turns out my passengers were rock stars and the people following us were fans. We all got autographs. But only my daughter knew who they were. I'm not into rock music.
That started out scary, but ended up comical. Another time it wasn't so funny. I got a good fare to go quite a distance, with a few stops on the way. He told me he was going to San Francisco to his sister's and then was going on a blind date. He had given me $100 up front and told me that that was mine for sure. He changed his destination from Stockton Airport to the mall so he could buy some presents for his sister's children. At the mall he handed me another $60 and told me to take my wife to dinner that evening.
On the way home, I was told by dispatch that my presence was requested where I had picked up my last customer. I got there and found city and county cops and FBI agents swarming the place. They asked numerous questions about my fare, his description, his clothing, and where our final destination had been. They confiscated the money the fare had paid me and gave me a receipt.
The next day I read about the bank robber who was 'armed and dangerous' and had escaped in a taxicab. I later was contacted again by the FBI and was shown some mug shots. I identified the person. I asked about my money and was told that if and when he was caught, after he got out of prison, he would have to make restitution of the $160. They didn't have to give it to me it was the bank's money.
Not taking this lying down and this being close to Christmas, I contacted various state and federal agencies but was told 'tough luck.' I then wrote a letter to the editor of the newspaper. I titled it 'Who Does the Money Belong To?'
"As it turned out, because the bills were $20s, the money belonged to me. After the article came out on a Saturday I was called on Monday to come and pick up my money. As far as I know, the bank robber was never caught and the money he stole never recovered."
Expert Advice
Someone just starting in this business should be prepared to work for less than the minimum wage. You should be prepared to be abused verbally. You should be prepared to be a caring driver and be very 'customer conscious.'
You should be able to speak English well and be able to read a map book. You should be able to follow directions and conduct yourself in a pleasant manner.
The best advice I can give for this occupation is thinking long and hard about being in a job where you might have to put your life on the line. And if you are ever put in a robbery situation, give your money up right away and pray that they spare your life.
