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hughjwade

Reflections on Being a Taxi Driver

My early professional life was unconventional, in terms of choices. My father, the main influence on my college choice and my main career counselor, really had a free range philosophy, which was good. He really didn’t set any expectations for the education/ degree/ job connection, There was no direct connection, really, that a college degree was supposed to lead to a job, although there was the expectation that a person had to get off the parent dole and start paying their own way. It took a long time for me to really become an adult in this regard. I finally did, and it was way closer to age 30 than age 22.

 

Life has a way of demanding that we figure it out. I graduated, just barely, in 1988 with a degree in Program of Liberal Studies, aka Great Books. Didn’t interview for a single job at college, didn’t apply for graduate school. I wanted adventure, and physical work and risk. The idea was to use my back (physical strength and energy of youth) while I still had it. I knew I wanted to go into the Peace Corps. So, of course, at first, I made a play in commercial fishing for a good solid couple of years while attempting to get in. Not really a conventional choice for a freshly minted Domer, being a deckhand in various fisheries for various species and gear types throughout the saltwater surrounding our state. 

 

One summer, prior to graduating, I tried my hand as a cab driver. I didn’t really know what I was doing or what it was about. That transition of working hard for wages (which I also liked) and working for oneself, with risk, for cash, took awhile to comprehend. I made virtually no money, and I was exposed to the underside of Anchorage and the people that operate there.

 

In the years to follow, in between commercial fishing, working in banking, serving in the Peace Corps, I always returned to cab driving. Eventually, I got quite serious about it, purchasing a couple of cab permits and running my own car and managing to keep it on the road day and night.

 

I learned a lot. Mostly, I learned to really like competing against myself and competing against the other drivers, to make the most cash each day that I could. I kept records. I liked being intense and serious about it and hustling, trying each moment to maximize my chances for the next ride, trying to squeeze the most rides and the most revenue out of each 12-hour day. No one telling me what to do but myself. If I did well, I usually had a good wad of cash by the end of the day. I liked that direct line. I also had to do projections to get a loan for a cab permit, which I pulled off, but eventually reneged on the financing. Hard to believe a bank would consider a cab permit as collateral, but Bank of America had a really cool loan officer, and she gave me a proposal letter. I thought it was too expensive. In retrospect, I really appreciate that she believed in me, and was willing to underwrite me. I should’ve been more appreciative and not went radio silent. Such are the mistakes of being young, inexperienced, and immature. 

 

Driving cab, the personal interactions were an education, too. There was always the threat of getting robbed, although it never happened to me. There were a ton of really sketchy situations. Or, the cops pulling me over. Or the Municipal inspector showing up at an unexpected place and asking to review my trip log. It was all cash, no checks or electronic payment then.

 

If you’re dealing with people, it’s going to get complicated. The job was simple. A wise fellow once told me that traditional taxi driving is, “Anybody, anywhere, anytime, point A to point B, on demand.”

 

The fact that each passenger or group of passengers brought a different recipe to our own little private moving room for a 5-to-30 minute drive kept it pretty interesting. Each interaction had to be managed. It was a lot of practice, reading people, handling all the situations that came up. Normal people, drunk people, broke people, angry people, people with mental health issues, hookers, scammers, partiers, older people, rural people, city people, different cultures, different issues, different levels of trust or mistrust, and healthy doses of conflict.  

 

So, that was good. Street smarts, how to get around town and how to navigate interactions with strangers with our objectives aligned. They wanted to get somewhere, and I wanted to take them there as quickly as possible too, and get paid, and get my next ride, all day long. 

 

Every day, seemingly without fail, there was always at least one interaction or situation that would threaten to ruin it all. Everything.  Like you wanted to quit, or you almost got killed, or some interaction that went extremely unwell, and/or the day was likely a total bust. Mental-sinkhole-ville. I noticed this pattern, knowing that, if a bad situation hadn’t shown itself yet, that I was due. When it did happen, I would say to myself, “Here’s that situation I expected. This sucks. This whole day will very well likely be toast. Or I can go on and make something of it, despite what just happened.” I learned that I had to work through those situations and that cloud. That was also great training.

 

In the end, people don’t respect, trust or appreciate cab drivers very much. It was a low prestige and respect job. But I thrived. I liked working for myself and the direct line between work and cash, risk and reward.  It shaped a lot of how I viewed the world. There was a core of entrepreneurship and hustle to it. I’m the same person that liked that experience and also chose to become a commercial real estate broker. There’s a lot of similarities.  Cab driving was more raw, simple, and dangerous. A lot of the crossover has to do with doing my own thing, whether people understand it or not, and trying to get something done for clients and to collect for it. Playing with live ammo and there’s something on the line. Risk assessment is key to cab driving, banking, real estate and life, really. Commercial real estate is a good job compared to cab driving because it’s more complex and intellectual, the financial risks and rewards are higher, and there’s a lot lower risk of getting seriously physically hurt. I’m glad I was a cab driver, and I am glad I am no longer a cab driver. It was a great and formative experience. 

 

-Hugh



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