The Anger of a Taxi Dispatcher on a Rainy Night

Last night I had a job to do at 1o:55 pm. I hate having to stay up that late, and as I sipped wine at 7 pm I thought that I’d better not have another since ugh, I have to drive to Northampton to meet the bus. My son Sam was coming out from Boston, and I was assigned the task of fetching him. I lolled on the couch, waiting and waiting for the time to depart, then slogged through the water in the driveway and lurched out into the night in the truck.

The drive wasn’t bad, it was raining but the roads were well salted, and I parked in front of the bus station at the appointed time. No bus. But I did spend a half-hour observing a woman inside who is a taxi dispatcher. She worked the phones, then the radio, and then stuck her body half-way out the door to have a smoke. Then I cracked my window and listened to her lash out at a taxi driver. “I supported you, I stuck up for you! You did crap for me….You’re full of sh**!” He meekly hung back and she attacked him angrily, I kept wondering what it was that made her so mad. She kept on yelling and gesticulating and finally closed the shades, stopping my observations.

I stayed there in the lot for another 15 minutes and finally the bus showed up. Sam bounded off the bus, and told me that the windshield wipers had broken and they had to spend an hour in Palmer waiting for help. It was nice to see him, and to have him home for the holidays.