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WITH ASNEER
What's happening to the "service professions"? Take a look
at big city hotels,
restaurants,
cleaning establishments, cab
lines, custodia/ businesses and
bus
lines
-
a subtle new
pattern
becomes
obvious. Sur/y, disgruntled waiters; irri–
tated, short-tempered clerks; careless, impersonal people
struggle with jobs that have become totally boring, tire–
somely
monotonous .
lt's symptomatic
of
what's happening
to
us -
we're learning not to care.
by
Garner Ted Armstrong
T
HE THIRD CAB
squished soddenly
by, its windshield wipers brush–
ing ineffectually at the splatter–
ing rain, the driver barely visible,
peering through rain-streaked windows
to see if I had any baggage.
Standing outside a large domestic air–
line terminal at New York's Kennedy
Airport, 1 was trying to catch my con–
necting flight overseas. The Bight de–
parted from another terminal, about a
half-mile across the sprawling parking
lots, winding doverleafs, and double–
level concrete. There wasn't time to wait
for one of the packed, slowly-moving
airport buses, which made stops at each
of the dozen or so terrninals between
the one at which I stood, and the so–
near-yet-so-far departure point.
I braved the puddles, splashed into
the street, and, gesturing that 1 wanted
to talk, succeeded in talking through a
partially lowered window to the next
cabbie.
"l've got to get to Pan
Am
in a hurry
- can you take me?"
The answer was a sick look, a barely
perceptible nod in the negative, and a
hastily re·closed window.
Zimmermon
-
Fr•• Lonc• Photogrophers Gvild
Inspiration carne with the next cab -
I waved a crumpled fiver in the rain.
Duck calls don't work any better in
driving sleet to homesick mallards.
The cab sloshed to my curbside
stance, the window was lowered, and
the driver peered half-interestedly at the
five.
"Can you take me to Pan Am for a
five
?"
1 asked, hopefully.
His jerk of the thumb indicated I was
invited to try the sagging rear door. 1
sat down on dank, smelly vinyl, planted
my feet on gritty, ash-covered floor, and
sat gingerly back into the thick smoke,
sticky humidity, mixed aroma of stale
cigar fumes, damp dothes ( I contrib–
uted that part), and body odor (he con–
tributed that part).
It was a silent ride.
The driver pulled up before Pan
Am's terminal. I handed him the bill.
Then 1 opened the door, and got out.
But I understood.
It
wasn't fair to ask the poor man to
do it for any less, even though taxicabs
can become as scarce as smiling elevator
operators when it's raining in New
York. The cabbie had probably delivered