Living at Harley's gave life a routine. In the morning Rat could hop in the cab and generally find a resident who needed to go into the city for one errand or another, and once he dropped them off he usually refueled the car. Gas was always more expensive on the beach, especially in summer when the tourists were there. After that there was a diner he usually dropped in. Harley refused to let him out the door without breakfast, but he never minded a second cup of coffee, and his primary motivation was networking. The cabbies dominated one end of the counter, this time of day, and he could trade news. They looked out for each other, shared information on where gas was the cheapest, what events in town would call for extra work, and Rat himself was known for always being in the know to whatever road work might be going on. It seemed uncanny, how up to date he was on that. The rest of the day was spent carrying fares, cruising the shopping district or on a nice day around the park. There were good fares to be made later in the evening, but he usually missed them now, unwilling to trade money for evenings home with Harley and sometimes April too. If there was something big in town, he sometimes made the trek home and then back out later, but evenings in seemed more appealing all the time.
Some days, though, he never showed up in the diner. Once or twice a month he dropped out of sight of the cabbies. Clean-shaven, dressed in his good suit, Mr. Rathbone debated developments and weighed the needs and available funding for the new school. Schools. As soon as the grade school was completed, or maybe sooner, they'd need to start work on a middle school. The city was growing, and he was helping its youth grow up. It was exciting to be in on the meetings, to walk the construction site with people saying his name respectfully and asking his advice on the plans, but he sometimes wondered what his buddies back in the diner would think if they saw him now.
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Two worlds, man.
Date: Feb. 1st, 2010 02:41 am (UTC)The rest of the day was spent carrying fares, cruising the shopping district or on a nice day around the park. There were good fares to be made later in the evening, but he usually missed them now, unwilling to trade money for evenings home with Harley and sometimes April too. If there was something big in town, he sometimes made the trek home and then back out later, but evenings in seemed more appealing all the time.
Some days, though, he never showed up in the diner. Once or twice a month he dropped out of sight of the cabbies. Clean-shaven, dressed in his good suit, Mr. Rathbone debated developments and weighed the needs and available funding for the new school. Schools. As soon as the grade school was completed, or maybe sooner, they'd need to start work on a middle school. The city was growing, and he was helping its youth grow up. It was exciting to be in on the meetings, to walk the construction site with people saying his name respectfully and asking his advice on the plans, but he sometimes wondered what his buddies back in the diner would think if they saw him now.