cease that infernal tittering. Yes, this situation was most humiliating, and having to seek help from Kern only exacerbated my shame.
I attempted to ignore the predicament, but that lasted about a week. Sitting in the cab stand at the Concourse Hotel, someone opened one of the back doors of my cab. Unfortunately, it was not a fare. It was Kern, as always, flashing that ridiculous grin.
"How's it going, Count?" His legs stretched across the entire back seat.
"Adequate."
"Just adequate? Thought you'd be making the big bucks my now."
I stared straight ahead. "I have simply chosen to follow your advice and work at my own pace until feeling comfortable. That is what you recommended, is it not?"
"Time to shift gears."
I turned. He sat up, his smile gone. "What do you want, Kern?"
"Just here to help."
Translation: whip one of the cooperative's workhorses to get more money out of it. "I do not require any help."
He shook his head. "Not the way I hear it, Count. Been talking to Maureen. You're not even making minimum wage. I saw your revenue per hour. You're making three bucks an hour. That eats shit."
A hot, red flash washed over me. Three dollars, six dollars. What was the difference? "I thought this variety of thing was confidential," I said, attempting to hide my rancor.
"It is normally." He sighed loudly. "Look, as a trainer, I try to follow up on the people I train. I asked how you were doing. Maureen told me she had to write a warning letter about having your paycheck fortified." Suddenly, his grin returned. "Hey, we can't be having that sort of thing. Makesme look bad."
Ah, ha! Makes him look bad, and then perhaps they take away from him the lucrative privilege of training. "I do not require your assistance," I repeated.
"You're wrong there, Al. Hey, you don't need to take this personally. Hell, you're working under a tremendous handicap here, not knowing the city and all. We'll carry you a little while, but you're gonna be under the microscope, so the sooner you start pulling your own weight, the better your chances of passing probation."
"Why are you so anxious to help me?" A good question, or so it seemed. The centuries had long taught me to be suspicious of anyone offering assistance for no apparent price or reason.
"As I said, you're my trainee, and therefore, you're my responsibility."
"Does that mean you get in trouble if I do not become an adequate driver?"
"Nope. Look, I want you to do well. I want all my trainees to do well. I want all of us to do well. It says in the statement of purpose right in our articles of incorporation that we will 'provide a humane working atmosphere and jobs at a living wage.' That's where I'm coming from."
For the first time, Kern struck me as sincere. "Very well," I said after a long, silent moment. "I will consent to whatever you think best."
"Then, you'll let me ride with you tomorrow night?"
"Yes," I answered, resigned to never be free of his vulgar presence.
"Good. I'll be home tomorrow night. Gimme a call when you get a cab."
"And what do you expect in return for your generosity?"
"You become a good cabbie, it's good for the whole co-op. Just buy me a beer sometime. Or maybe two."
Ah ha! I knew there had to be some form of ulterior motive at work.
****
"That's your first mistake."
"To what are you referring, Kern?" As planned, I had collected him at his home after getting a cab. We had just run our first call, and he had already seen fit to have an apoplexy.
"You're empty, right?"
"Correct. There are calls in close proximity. We shall accept our next assignment shortly."
"But you could've already been dispatched a call before dropping off your previous passenger. Now, with no call in front of you, you gotta drive around aimlessly, wasting time, and time is a valuable commodity. Like I've said a zillion times, time is money."
"But did you not say that I should work at my own pace, take my time and not 'bid on the run', as you say, until I felt comfortable?"
"Jesus Christ, Al, I didn't figure you taking me so literally. I meant maybe you might do that for the first shift or two. But you've been on your own for a good two weeks. Time to put on the long pants."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Just get yourself another call, but this time, I want you to bid while running the call. I want you