THE VERDICT -- Robert Gardner
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Because of something called macular degeneration, I am now classified
as legally blind. It was quite handy at first. When the check came, I
couldn’t see it. Now my friends know better and flash it in front of my
eyes. My lack of eyesight also means I no longer drive. As a result, I
have become very familiar with alternative means of transport.
For a bargain, you can’t beat the bus -- 25 cents if you’re a senior.
It’s the way I get to Laguna Beach when I want to look up my cartoonist
friends who frequent the bars in that town. Much farther than Laguna,
though, and you have to be some kind of genius to figure out all the
different routes, so for longer trips I have used cabs.
I’ve probably just been unlucky in my experience with local cabs, but
despite five pages in the yellow pages boasting of the super service
afforded by various cab companies, it seems to me the taxi service in
Orange County rates just a teeny level behind that of Kirabati, which has
one cab that is marked “out of order.”
My complaint starts with the voice on the phone that assures me the
cab will pick me up within 20 minutes. It’s always 20 minutes no matter
where I am calling from. I guess I should ask 20 minutes from when,
because despite the assurances I’ve never had a cab arrive within 20
minutes. They’ve arrived in 30 minutes, in 40 minutes. Sometimes they
don’t arrive at all.
If I’m lucky enough for the cab to actually show up, invariably the
driver is from Madagascar, doesn’t speak a word of English and doesn’t
know his way around town. I can say Anaheim, I can say Afghanistan, it’s
all the same to him. He doesn’t know where it is. I have learned to take
cabs only to places I know how to get to myself.
So that passengers won’t be cheated when it’s time to pay the fare,
there’s a little gadget on the dashboard that carefully logs each mile
and tells you what you owe. One day, I took a ride from point A to point
B. The fare, according to the little gadget, was $5. The next day I took
the same trip from point A to point B, and the handy little gadget said
the fare was $9. Try protesting to someone who only speaks Madagascarese.
I have learned a lesson from all this: If it’s within Corona del Mar
town limits and I really want to get there, and get there on time, I
walk.
* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge. His
column runs Tuesdays.
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