Usually, I'm one of those cool cab drivers. I will put your luggage or walker in the trunk, make small talk if you're chatty, or have a nice quiet ride if you're not in the mood to talk. If you're from out of town, I can suggest a couple things to do. If you're a local, I'll ask how the day is going. I try to take people the shortest way to places, and I'll even ask you if you have a particular way of getting somewhere. But sometimes, I lose my cool, and it's usually with old people.

That's what happened on Thursday. I went to pick up a guy in the nice mobile home area by Juan Tabo and Central. He was an old man with a cane, had a genuinely pleasant disposition, and was a little hard of hearing. He wanted to go to the rehabilitation center off Wyoming & Constitution near Kaseman Hospital.

We hadn't even gotten out of the mobile home area when he said "You could have gone the other way." Usually, I take the route that leads us toward the destination, but he normally went the other way. I apologized, agreeing with him that we could go either way, and it wouldn't make much of a difference. I try to be agreeable.

Most of my mistakes in the cab come when I think too much. There is a flow to traffic, being in the right place at the right time for a ride, and making a 12-hour cab day work for me. That little correction by the old man had me thinking. I thought of hopping onto the freeway from Juan Tabo to Wyoming but decided to take the street road instead. Wrong choice, and the old man let me know. "I take the freeway, and you just missed it." Again, I apologized and said I should have asked him how he liked to get to his destination. He said "What?" and I repeated myself louder.

He didn't say much for the rest of the ride, and I got him to the rehabilitation center by taking the street roads. The fee was sixteen dollars. I came around to open the door for him, and for some reason, I didn't want to hear any guff from him. For some reason, I knew it was coming.

"How much?"

"Sixteen bucks."

"I never pay more than fourteen for a ride."

"Then pay me fourteen."

"I'm on social security, and you took the long way, and--"

"PAY ME FOURTEEN DOLLARS, AND GO! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!"

He opened his wallet and had plenty more than sixteen dollars in it. He gave me three fives, and I offered a dollar change. He told me to keep it but wanted to keep talking. I turned and went back to the driver's side. He told me to have a good day, even though he knew I was ticked off. I replied "You...take care."

It took me about a minute to calm my body down. I hate it when that happens. Quibbling over a dollar, getting the old man scolding, losing my cool. I spent about fifteen minutes telling myself it was my fault. I picked up the guy, I didn't take the freeway, I lost my temper. I usually pick up between twenty and thirty rides a day, and rarely do I snap. Why is it that old people feel they can scold you like no one else does?

FYI, when I say old people, I mean people who can't get in and out of the cab very easy because of their old bodies. It's the same thing with fat people or drunk people. It's all whether you can get in and out of the cab easily.

Later that day, I picked up a regular on Hermosa. It's a charge account that pays 20 bucks to take him four miles to a different rehabilitation center. He's a guy with Mexican accent but speaks English well, and he also walks with a cane. He fell four stories while doing a job in Las Vegas, New Mexico. It's a miracle he's alive, and he's been walking much better than when I first picked him up. He's always in a good mood, and for some reason, I confessed my blow up with the old man.

"Eee ho la. Well, we all get mad sometimes, bro. Eet's no good to get mad, but son tines, you just have to let it out."

We talked about times we got mad at people and how we always try to take it easy.

"Oh my goodness, nex tine son one gets you really mad, say 'Sancha Concha.' It souns bad, but it means 'Go to the store' in Japanese. Ha ha ha. You're not really saying anything bad. Try it."

I say it a few times. It seems silly. I know I'm not going to do it when someone makes me mad, but it does put the whole episode into a silly perspective. We laugh, and I drop him off at the rehab center next to Lovelace Hospital, and I feel better.

So there you go. Two rehabilitation center rides. One made me angry, and the other I used as therapy. All in a day's work. This cab business can make you crazy if you let it, but if you do it right and go with the flow, it all seems to work itself out in the end. If it turns out lousy, Sancha Concha!

Chris Jungle goes to the store.