Dorsai - Taxi

I considered what she said for a few moments before I answered "Evie, if you want to give me a tip, that's fine – I'm not going to turn it down just because you're handicapped or anything stupid like that. But don't think that you have to make it any more than you would tip someone, anyway. If I helped you that much today, then you've helped me, too, by teaching me that a handicapped person isn't that much different than anyone else. I'm probably not saying anything new, or that you haven't heard before, but I suppose all of us have a handicap of some kind or other. It's just that yours is out where people can see it, while most of us carry ours around on the inside. I've learned a lot today, and being with you – and not just in bed! – has given me plenty to think about. So as much as you've maybe gotten from me, I've gotten just as much from you."

When I was done, I could see tears in her eyes. I stood up and went over to her and gently wiped them away before telling her "Don't cry, Evie. Be glad, instead: any day that ends with you having a new friend – and I do hope you'll count me as your friend, just as I count you as one of mine! – is a good one."

She smiled, and nodded, and I leaned over to give her a soft kiss before standing up again and leaving.

A couple of days later, I was called back to the Central. I was surprised when I was directed back to the managers office again; I'd figured they'd just have a check for me at the front desk. When I got to the managers office, he again invited me in after I knocked. Once I was seated, he told me "I was considerably surprised when Miss Towers invited you up to her rooms after you drove her the other day. But when I asked her about it the next day, while she was waiting for the Clinic van, she made quite the fan of yours. Whatever you did, it was just the thing: after you left, she was far more pleasant and agreeable than she ever was before, and much less… demanding and troublesome for the staff. So I'm more than happy to not only give you a check for the fare" – he handed me an envelope – "but another that includes not only the rather hefty tip Miss Towers wanted you to have, but something extra from us, as well" as he extended another envelope to me.

I tucked both envelopes in my shirt pocket, and the manager looked surprised before he asked "Aren't you going to see what's in the other envelope?"

I just smiled and said "However much it is, I can only trust that Miss Towers felt it was appropriate; and I know that you and the Central to be eminently fair."

Of course, I planned to look at the contents of the second envelope as soon as I could, but it simply wouldn't do to do it in front of him.

Pleased with my answer (which was, after all, bullshit), he stood up, offered me his hand, and said "I think perhaps the Central would benefit from having you drive more of our special guests, when they need a cab. I can see, now, that you are much more of a… gentleman than so many of the other drivers I've come across."

I shook his hand, thanked him for the compliment, and made my departure.

Back in my hack again, I opened up the second envelope he'd given me and discovered two checks in it: one from Evie for a hell of a lot more money than I could have even imagined, and the other from the Central for ten percent of what Evies was made out for.

That night, just as I had when I'd left Evie, I spent a lot of time just sitting and thinking about how much I benefitted (and not financially) from having been able to spend time with her.

As any cop can tell you, there are some days of the year when 'business' just picks up for them: New Years, Christmas, 4th of July, Halloween, and a few others. And you can pretty much tell what day of the week it is by how busy the hospital emergency rooms are: Sunday nights are generally slowest, with a gradual build up until the busiest night of the week – Saturday.

So when Halloween fell on a Saturday one year, I was considerably less than enthusiastic about working. But the money, and tips, would simply be too much to pass up. All of my 'regular' fares were either attending parties in one hotel or another, or going out of town to celebrate, which meant that I could look forward to being just one of the vast herd of cabbies working that night.

Except my karma, a particularly kind and benevolent God, the Great Pumpkin, Flying Spaghetti Monster, or somebody decided that I needed a reprieve in the form of a call to a new place that had opened up on the edge of town: rather than building a regular hotel or motel, the owners of this place had decided to try something new and different – a mix of individual, duplex, and two-story buildings for people to stay in. They charged out the wazoo, but still seemed to be doing a pretty darn good business; the few times I'd had to go there, the parking areas had all been filled.

The call I got from Dispatch told me which building to go to, and that it was a 'flat rate' job, meaning that somebody had decided to rent me and my cab for several hours. When Dispatch told me how many hours, I figured I'd really lucked out: just my cut of the fare would pretty much match what I could have made working 'on call'; by the time you figured in any kind of decent tip, I'd be doing pretty good.

When I pulled up to the building, I saw that it was one of the single cabins, and had a Mercedes 500 in the parking spot. That had me seeing dollar signs, at least, until the people that called came out. At first I thought it was two women, but once I got a closer look at them, I realized it was a woman and younger girl. I had the door open for them by the time they got to my hack, and in the light I could see that the younger looked eighteen-ish, and the older couldn't have been forty. They were both dressed up in costumes, which was why I had the time and inclination to hurry around and get the door for them. The mother (I just got a vibe that was what she was) was decked out to do the Lady Godiva route – and for the life of me, I couldn't figure how much of her getup was costume and how much was her. Whatever the ratio was, it worked, and worked damn well as far as I was concerned. The daughter (it seemed a reasonable assumption, under the circumstances) was outfitted to play Little Bo Peep, if I had my nursery rhyme characters straight; except that all the pictures and drawings I'd seen of Bo Peep in books, she had a hell of a lot more clothes on, and they weren't anywhere near as revealing.

Still, what they're paying me for is to get them from 'here' to 'there' with as little fuss and trouble as possible, so I put my eyeballs back in their sockets and get behind the wheel. The mother tells me where they're going, and I get us rolling.

As I'm driving, I can't help but use the rearview mirror to look back at the two of them; the streetlights are putting enough light back there that I don't have any trouble checking both of them out. "Mom" is a leggy redhead with a pretty face and nice build; the younger of the two is also a redhead, and simply a flat-out babe: cute face, medium-sized bust, legs that go from here to there, and what looks like will turn out to be a small, tight little ass. I can tell because she keeps turning to rest on one hip or the other. While there's any chance of them looking at me, I'm all polite and formal and helpful, just like usual. But when they can't see, I'm eyeballing them as much as I can.

I'm a little disappointed when we finally get to our destination – at least, until I realize that I'll get a chance to look the two of them over again when they get out, and watch them as they walk away. I get the door of my cab open for them, and get the chance to look them over again as they get out; when both of them are standing, I let them know where I'll be, and that I'll be watching for them to come out. "Mom" tells me that's fine, and that she doesn't think they'll be inside for too long – they're just checking the place out without any expectation of staying. I give her my best "Yes, Ma'am", and watch as the two of them walk away. The daughter's ass is easily as fantastic as I figured it would be, but the mothers is damn near as nice to watch.