You think you know...and you actually probably have a pretty good idea: This is the True Life of a Shuttle Driver

"Hi...I need a pick-up."
It is 3:05pm and "Dwight" is on the University Volkswagen/Audi shuttle phone telling me he needs a "pick-up." This is exactly how he phrases it. He does not ask me when would be a conveniant time, nor how I am doing, nor dipense with any of the pleasantries that most of the customers at least attempt. No, Dwight is very to the point about needing his "pick-up."
Five minutes later I pick Dwight up outside the bio-tech company "Zymogenetics" on Eastlake Avenue. He is wearing khaki shorts and a hideous blue button-up shirt that he has failed to button. He has a butt-cutt. Upon getting in the shuttle he immediately starts talking on his cell phone. I hate Dwight. Nevertheless, he must be picked up and safely deposited at the Audi/Volkswwagen dealership (Dwight, as most pricks do, owns an Audi). This, afterwall, is what the job that I have diligently performing from 2:30 to 7:30, Monday through Friday, since January 3rd, 2007, entails. But now it is all about to end. Not in the manner that I described in a previous entry in which I gleefully lit my hair on fire and attempted to commit vehicular homicide; no, I am quitting this Wednesday.
In commemoration of this joyous day I decided to take notes this past Friday so that the whole world (i.e. Zach, Andy, Dan) could see what a typical day is like in the life of a shuttle driver. I scribbled on the backside of the schedule in between pick-ups so that I could recall details about the customers later on. Here is a quick synopsis of what would transpire: I drive a scant total of 33 miles and shuttle seven customers (5 male, 2 female). They range from: my kind and witty co-worker Jessica, to the VP of the private banking sector at Wells Fargo. Larry, one of the custormers, tips me 5 dollars. He is the only person out of the 7 to tip me. Larry is very torn about whether or not he should buy the midnight blue or the silver Audi A-4 convertible. We discuss this for at least 20 minutes in the shuttle. At one point he describes the new Audi grills as "in your face." Apparently the midnight blue convertible looks "meaner," but the silver more nicely accents the "in your face grill." Larry is in his 30's and lives in Silverdale. Silverdale, if you don't already know, Silverdale is mostly known for having a a mall that contains "Bon Marche", and for having a Red Robin.
Diane, the VP of the private banking sector of Wells Fargo, scares the shit out of me. I am not quite sure whether she is 41 or 71. She has a Louis Vuitton bag and enters the shuttle carrying a green tea-like beverage from Starbucks. I have shuttled Diane before, so we quickly ease into small-talk. I mention that I have been reading a book called "The Little Book that Beats the Market," and Diane perks up as the conversation turns towards investment. She gives me advice and then gives me her business card. Then we pick up John.
John lives on Capitol Hill and is a "sales-engineer" for T-Mobile. I spend the first 10 minutes after picking him up trying to figure out what the fuck a "sales-engineer" is. Diane and John begin to engage in lively banter. Diane tries to convince John to switch to Wells Fargo and John tries to convince Diane to switch to T-Mobile. It ends in a stale-mate when I interrupt to ask what a "hedge fund" is. As the conversation once again turns toward investment, John finds out that Diane is a VP and excitedly says to me, "Dude, you're sitting next to a VP!" I respond, "Dude, you're a douche-bag!" Actually I don't, because John is a really nice guy. He has tipped me both of the previous two times I drove him; strangely ,this time he does not (which was particularly weird because he lingered near the shuttle for about 20 seconds after Diane got out and said "bye" to me like 3 times). Diane may have been gorgeous when she was younger. She also may have been a vampire.
My final customer is Steven, whom I pick up from downtown at 5:35pm. Steven is an older businessman, smartly dressed in a blazer and slacks. He is also sporting a hat that looks like it was taylored in the 1940's. I ask him what he is doing for the weekend and he says they are having a birthday party at his house in Wallingford. I tell him that that sounds nice. Steven says that 21 years ago they bought their house in Wallinford for the barely-affordable price of 87,000 dollars. After the customary guffaw-ing on my part, he discusses the value of the house today. "It must be worth at least 5 times that," he explains, "but who knows what 'worth' means these days. I certainly don't." Steven is a hopeless romantic/philosopher.
Well there you have it. I hope that provided a small window in the the illustrious world of shuttle driving. Applications are available in the Volkswagen customer service area. Just ask for Fahmin. In the words of "Lawrence" from Office Space: "fuckin-a..."

-Boosh Clown