Stressful occupation

Randy Orton

WC's Resident Alchoholic

Stressful occupation


By DAVID HENCH, Portland Press Herald Writer

Copyright © 2006 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc.
E-mail this story to a friend






--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ADVERTISEMENT


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Staff photo by Derek Davis

Brian Kyle gets a call from a customer while taking a break outside his cab on Commercial Street. In Portland, $100 to $150 can be a decent night's receipts for a cab driver.



Staff photo by Derek Davis

University of Southern Maine students Lindsay Fox, left, and Kelly Renaud, both 22, check their cash supply as Brian Kyle of American Taxi takes them to the Ri-Ra pub in Portland. Some of his regulars are people who don't want to risk an OUI arrest.


Brian Kyle's friendly banter hardly falters as the drunken woman alternately compliments him and insults the man riding in the back of the cab with her.

But while the cabbie's conversation is directed at her, his attention is on the brooding, irritable man sitting directly behind him. The woman is challenging her friend's manhood, saying he doesn't have the guts to pull the gun he claims to have.

It is a short but uneasy midnight ride, from a bar on Market Street to an apartment building on Casco Street. The man's impatience seems directed at his partner more than anything else, and he gives Kyle $5 for a $3.10 fare, a ride that took less than five minutes.

Driving a cab in Portland after hours reveals a cross section of the city. Shop clerks headed home, college students out for a night on the town, belligerent drunks and drug users. A few months of driving the streets will inure most drivers to the seedy side of city life, but an unusual string of armed robberies this month has added a level of anxiety and stress to the uncertainty that typifies the job.

"It's a crapshoot, like gambling," Kyle said as he drove away from the apartment. "I would rather not get down to picking up strangers. We forget how dangerous it can be."

A burly, affable man of 36, Kyle gave up his job hanging Sheetrock three years ago to take the wheel of a cab with American Taxi.

From his perspective, operating a cab is more about interacting with people than driving a car.

There are 123 cabs for 71 companies in Portland. Most of the drivers are independent, meaning they own their own cab or lease it by the shift from a company. Leasing a cab costs about $70 to $80 per shift, plus gas. Anything over that, in fares and tips, is the driver's pay.

It's not a way to get rich - $100 to $150 a shift can be a decent night. But it gives almost anyone who's willing to work a chance to earn a living.

The key to a successful shift is keeping the back seat filled. Cab drivers seldom turn down fares, regardless of where they're coming from or going - despite the spate of robberies.

"Drivers will take whatever they can get," says Mary Jo Johnson, who runs ABC Taxi, the city's largest company, with 29 cabs. "To a cab driver, a fare is a fare."

REGULARS MAKE IT PROFITABLE

Business is slow on a Friday night in Kyle's Lincoln Town Car. Over the radio, drivers complain about the lack of customers.

Kyle is serving as dispatcher while he drives, handling telephone calls and directing the three other drivers who are working the city. As he winds his way through Portland, he keeps track of which driver is entitled to the next call. Keeping drivers happy is important to the company's success as well as theirs, he says.

He works the cell phone, telling a customer that their ride will be there in 10 to 15 minutes. His friendly back-and-forth with customers comes naturally. It also makes good business sense - repeat customers can be key to a successful shift.

After ferrying a 60-year-old woman from her job at a coffee shop to her home in Stroudwater, Kyle picks up three University of Southern Maine students on Falmouth Street, headed for the Ri-Ra pub on Commercial Street.

"It's better to be safe than sorry. You don't want to drink and drive," said Kelly Renaud, 22, explaining the rationale behind calling a cab.

Kyle's next fare is three men in South Portland, regulars who live off Highland Avenue. They welcome the cabbie's arrival boisterously.

"Brian, dude! How you been?"

Driving with his left hand, Kyle stretches his right hand behind him for handshakes. "How's it going, brother? What have you been up to?"

J.D. Newick describes the evening's plans - karaoke at a Portland club. The men explain that taking a cab into town from South Portland makes sense. Two of them have commercial driver's licenses for business, and they can't chance a drunken driving conviction.

"Five dollars each is a lot cheaper than an OUI. Just the fines are about $2,000," said Jared Adams. The men spill out onto Commercial Street and tell Kyle they may give him a call later on, when it's time to go home.

The dangers of drunken driving and the legal penalties help fuel the taxi business in Portland. Many fares on a weekend night are people who are avoiding the risk and temptation of driving into town when they're headed for a bar. Others have already tempted fate and lost their license.

"It's also an older thing. Once you grow up a little, you're more mature and you have more responsibilities and you can't do that," said Jen Reynolds, who rode with her sister and a friend from South Portland to Liquid Blue, a nightclub in the Old Port.

Kyle prefers to pick up the customers he knows, the regulars that he counts on to make his 12-hour shift profitable. But like other drivers, when the cab is empty, he trolls through the bar and restaurant district, or parks near Fore and Exchange streets, waiting for a walk-up.

After the bars close at 1 a.m., a few cabs head out to Platinum Plus, a topless nightclub on Riverside Street, which closes at 3 a.m. or later depending on the night.

DARTING PEDESTRIANS

While cab-driver robberies have grabbed the headlines lately, that's not what Kyle usually worries about.

"I'm afraid of hitting somebody," he said as he watched for people darting into the street from between parked cars. "You have to be patient out here or you're never going to make it. It can be so stressful if you let it."

One St. Patrick's Day, he said, inebriated party-goers grabbed the door handles on his locked cab and rocked it from side to side as he tried to drive down Commercial Street.

Another problem is lost fares. One of the drivers working this night goes to a bar at Morrill's Corner but the fare is gone. The person either caught a ride with someone else or saw a passing cab and didn't want to wait.

"I've had someone call me from Windham and say, 'I had a fight with my woman, come get me,' and I go," only to find when he got there, the couple had made up, he said.

There are some occupational health issues as well. Sitting for hours at a stretch with the defroster blowing leads to dry eyes and chapped lips, he said.

His nervous ride with the aggressive, intoxicated couple was unusual, and Kyle doesn't spend a lot of time worrying about it.

After the woman climbs out of the cab on Casco Street, she scolds her partner for not giving enough of a tip. Kyle hands her a business card, but confesses later that he hopes she doesn't call for another ride tonight.

"I need a tranquilizer," Kyle says as he pulls away. "I was definitely uncomfortable."