Credit slip(-ups) & the 7min hillside strut

Follow the journey >> Route map, part 1 // Route map, part 2

Had to return another set of books to the library this morning. Actually they were the same four books, but I try not to announce that out of embarassment. They weren't due until 9:30AM, but there was a big company meeting booked for 9AM sharp at the downtown (e.g. non-Costco) office. You know the kind: big, fancy boardroom with mahogany table that seats 30, excellent catered coffee & croissants. Not an occassion on which to be late.

Woke up totally bewildered at 8:28AM. Not a good way to start off. Finally got dressed and called for my ride around 8:40AM. Taxi arrived: 8:45AM. We made the usual circle of one-ways in my neighbourhood to begin the first part of the trip. Traffic was backed up all the way along Sherbrooke, and I found myself inadvertedly checking my watching every 30 seconds or so. The rush had begun.

Arrived at stop 1 (library): 8:50AM. Ran to the returns area, where I was greeted by a very bitter and likely self-loathing librarian who decided today was the day I needed a lecture on checking out too many books at one time. (Obviously a slew of other students have been waiting to read Sexual Dissidence or Postmodernity in Latin America a week after the end of term.)

Ran back into taxifor second departure: 8:53AM. Now I had just under 7 minutes to drive up a hillside (the "mountain" if you live in Montreal), and back down it to a location rougly 5 blocks away. Great. Not to mention the time needed to navigate some of Montreal's famed underground shopping routes to some hidden, undecorated company elevator. Cabbie was trying to rush, bless him - but with all the reds and pedestrians (with whom I sympathize while walking of course, but absolutely abhorr whilst on wheels...), it didn't look promising.

While at one red light he used the opportunity to relay the story of how we first met (an event he remembered clearly, and which I have no recollection). Here's a quick rundown:

CABBIE: "Last time you were in my taxi I drove you to work and you paid with a credit card."
ME: "Really? I don't really remember, but that sounds like me."
C: "I remember because I forgot to copy your credit card number. So you signed the slip but I couldn't charge it."
> Silence
C: "It's OK. I called the dispatcher and they had you on file. It's alright. I knew you weren't going to run off... because you're a regular."

A regular? Oh no. Of course - by virtue of even writing these blog entries - I do realize that I'm a little taxi-dependant. But actually being called a "regular" was not nearly as glamourous as I'd imagined. (I confess that I expected it to be more like of an episode of Cheers or Seinfeld where I had a nice seat reserved just for me.)

8:58AM - We finally arrived at stop #2. I was slightly embittered and ready to make my escape, when I realized that the cabbie had conveniently stopped in front of a Pacific-sized puddle. Great. I paid for the ride, jumped over (actually, more like "timidly stepped into, and then jumped from") the puddle, and dashed for the door, to find two co-workers anxiously awaiting my fashionably-late arrival. Two minutes remained... what a relief!

So, in the end... The damage: $15+ before tax. I gave $19... I only had $5 bills and toonies in my pocket, and I was too rushed to do the math.