12 Uber Driver

In this episode, Fake Cop returns in an absurd satire of the 1976 film Taxi Driver. Working nights as a deeply unqualified Uber driver in Newmarket, Ontario, he descends into obsession while battling unleashed dogs, a collapsing Uber rating, hockey players, local politics, and his own questionable grip on reality. 

Taxi Driver collides with suburban Ontario in the latest Fake Cop story. This is Uber Driver. Five stars or else. Featuring the very popular Steve Hughes as the Mayor of Newmarket.

Transcript

SPEAKER_04 0:26

Hey everybody, how you doing? It's Brad here. Thank you for joining me. Okay. What's up for episode 78 of the Sigman Talking Show? Well, today, today, Fake Cop returns. I know, I know. I just wrapped up the latest fake cop trilogy in the last episode. Then I take this super long break, and now I'm back with another one. That makes it one, two, three, four, four fake hop episodes in a row. And yes, I agree, that is a lot of fake cop. Especially if you like Greek mythology or stories about crab apple wars or shoe cartels operating out of the Upper Canada Mall. But there is a reason why I'm piling on with Fake Cop right now. This is all part of something I'm calling the Fake Cop Initiative. I know that sounds ridiculous, and I want to be very clear about what this means. Because I don't want this to be confusing, and I do think this is a bit confusing. If you are familiar with my show, Sick Man Talking, then you are familiar with the character of Faye Cop, God help you. Faye Cop is not a new show, it's never been a separate show. It's always been part of Sick Man Talking. And it always will be. These episodes were made inside this show, and they are staying inside this show. That part isn't changing at all. What is changing is how you can access them and how they're organized. A lot of people really connect with the Faye Cop episodes specifically. Not everyone, but the people who do really tend to lock in on that character and story. The problem with these episodes is that they are scattered throughout the whole Sick Man Talking episode feed, mixed in with everything else. And that makes it hard for new listeners to find them and follow them in order. So what we have done here is we have created a new dedicated space for them. A second place for them to live. A parallel pathway, if you will. My producer, good old Greg Dickpot O'Brien, did something awesome, and that is unusual for him, it really, really is. I usually make sport of Greg or Craig, whatever his name is. But he did something really cool here, and I've got to give him some credit. I really hope he does not hear this. Greg made this awesome new website, fakecopshow.com. That's fakehopshow.com. Yes, more websites. Greg and I live in like 2004, we really don't know any better. And that website, fakehopshow.com, is currently live right now, it has been for a little while. It is up, and it's official. Right now it contains the first five fake hop episodes. The first two episodes, which were standalone, and then the first trilogy. Anytime I release a new episode of any kind on Sick Man Talking, I'll also release another fake hop episode on the new website, fakecopshow.com. I can't release them all at once. That will put me over my buzzprout platform hour limit for the month, and I will be charged extra, and I can't have that. Eventually, all of the episodes will be on fakecopshow.com. And then any future fake hop episodes will be released on both Sick Man Talking and the new FakeCop website. All together now, fakecopshow.com. Still confused? Yes, me too. Let's go a little deeper then. On this very special website, this fakecopshow.com. You can listen to all of the fake hop episodes directly. Right there on the website, they're all the same episodes. But now they're all organized in one place. So you can actually follow the fake hop storyline without needing a flow chart and a private investigator. This one's important too. The website also links back very easily to the sick man talking website. It is super simple, you can move back and forth between them very easily. It's basically one system with two connected entry points. And I'm not exaggerating when I say it's easy. It is really, really easy, and we're talking about me here. If you are not familiar with my policy on technology, please listen to episode 67. Well, what if you don't want to listen on the website itself? Well that's no problem. Because you can also find your preferred platform there. Greg put in all the usual links. So you can choose whatever platform you like and go straight to there from the site. You are you got your Apple, you got your Spotify, Atari, CoecoVision, they're all there. So you can stay on fakeopshow.com and listen there. Or you can listen elsewhere from one of the links. Why am I doing this, you may ask? Well, the reason is simple. Sick Man Talking is a show that changes all the time. That's part of what it is. Every episode completely different from the last. It's my favorite aspect of the show. I get to talk about whatever I want to, and I just love that. Now I do consider that to be a strength, but it's also its weakness. It makes it really, really hard to categorize and for new people to find it. It doesn't fit into one neat category, let alone into multiple categories. The algorithm has no idea the show exists. The fake cop episodes, on the other hand, they have their own very specific identity inside of all of that. And they tend to attract a certain kind of listener that really likes to follow that thread. I'm gonna have to take a break soon, my voice is dying, but the fake hop initiative is very important, so I will push on for at least two more sentences, maybe three. So this is just a way of dealing with all that without changing the show itself. Maybe I'll take that break now. I think that's probably a good idea. I'll pick this up in a couple of days. And we're back. And so is my voice, but only for about three minutes or so, so let's get through this, shall we? Okay, so the fake hop initiative. It's basically making it easier for new listeners to find that part of my show, and make it easier for people who already like it to follow it properly. I've also updated the artwork for Fake Hop. If you follow me on social media, you'll know what he looks like now. This is the image I've had of him in my head, going right back to the first fake hop episode, when I drove that cursed car off the lot for the very first time. It's the same guy I just finally represented visually. I asked many people what they thought he looked like, and I got some pretty funny responses. A couple of them were actually dead on, which was weird. He's basically me, he just looks like a healthier, much hotter version of me. I've improved my jawline a bit, my hairline a bit, and a few other lines quite a bit. But the rest is pretty much identical, that is how I dress. Those tapered, stylized Adidas track pants. Some kind of plain long-sleeve white t-shirt, sometimes a hoodie with nothing underneath it. In other words, I dress like a douchebag, like a uh soccer hooligan or um or a uh lower-level Eastern European drug dealer of some kind. And I dress like that pretty much every day for 25-30 years now. I realize now I don't wear clothes as much as I wear a uniform. So that's what the Fake Cop Initiative is. I'm not removing Fake Cop from Sick Man Talking. It's still part of the show, it was born here and it will stay here. And future episodes of Fake Cop will continue to appear here. But now they also have their own home base for people who only want to follow the Fake Hop saga specifically, which honestly is probably healthier for everyone involved. Okay, so now that I've got you here, I want to say something else, and I'm gonna say it plainly. This show is independent, very, very independent. There are no sponsors or advertisers telling me what to do, that is not something I ever want. I shudder at just the thought of doing an ad read, I just don't want to do any of it. There is no network shaping this. It's just me and a couple of volunteers, Greg O'Brien and Derek Wellsman. And that's it. Greg, he does a lot of amazing work behind the scenes. And then you hear what Derek and I get up to every episode. It's really hard work, but we love doing it. And we want to do this to the best of our ability for as long as we can. And because of that, things like ratings, comments, and shares. They matter way, way, way more than they ever would in a normal sing world. I don't love asking for that stuff directly, but it does make a difference in whether the show gets seen by other people or just disappears into the noise, into the abyss. I honestly despise this new media landscape. Not that the old one was so hot, but this one definitely sucks. Honestly, I feel like an online internet busker. So if you've got something to say about it, please do. It honestly does help. I wouldn't ask if it didn't. I'm just not that kind of guy. It also lets me know how I'm doing. I like getting feedback. And if you're someone who wants to support the show beyond that, there are ways to do so through the usual links, which Greg has put everywhere. The buy me a copy thing, you can buy a subscription on Buzz Sprout. But no pressure, of course, on that part. I'm not turning this into a sales pitch. I'm done with that part now. Actually, I lied, I'm almost done, I have to do one more call to action, as they call it. Fuck, I hate doing this. So, in a nutshell, smash the like, uh, crush the notifications, destroy the subscription, kick the thing, punch the other thing, help out when you can, all the usual stuff. And always feel free to contact me directly. I love talking to you, I'm on all the social medias, and I am extremely approachable. Ask anybody. Not anybody, just some people. Ask some people. You can also email me right here at sickman talking at gmail.com. I am a very, very, very, very lonely man. Which does lend itself quite well actually to the theme of today's episode, which I swear to god I will get to very, very soon. Okay, so that's where we're at. Fake cop is back again. Probably too soon, but we're doing it anyway because of the fake cop initiative thing I've been talking about for the past 45 fucking minutes. Okay, so finally, where were we here? The last time we left Fake Cop. His mind was blown after learning the true identity of the Toucan Man. I'll get back to that storyline eventually, but for now I'm trying something new. Today's Fake Cop episode is a satire of the movie Taxi Driver. Most people have seen the Martin Scorcese classic starring Robert De Niro, Sybil Shepherd, and a 12-year-old Jody Foster. Anyway, I've had this in my head for around 11 years now. I think it was the first time I took an Uber back in 2015. I really had no way of doing it properly. Now I do. For multiple episodes now, fake cop has been a fake Uber driver. He pulled that one off in a pretty messed up way. While researching this one, I was reading a lot of YouTube comments. I was going through these comment sections, and every Uber driver on earth seemed to be in there. One comment just simply said, somebody's gotta do something called Uber Driver. That was my sign. So this is Uber Driver. This was a tricky one to pull off too because Taxi Driver is filled with some pretty ugly dialogue and moments. I wanted to take all that darkness and ugliness and just ridiculize it. Absurdify it. I think I pulled that off, I'm not sure, it's hard to tell. It's definitely fucking ridiculous. I spent around two weeks sitting on the edge of my bed in front of the movie rewriting the dialogue scene by scene. I did the same thing a while back with an episode called Beverly Hills Fake Cop. But Beverly Hills Cop was admittedly much easier to deal with than taxi driver. Oh man. By the end of the first week of writing this one, I was addicted to methamphetamines. By the time it was over, I was holding my hand over the stove burner, I had a mohawk. I'd already been talking to myself in the mirror for many years. Uh speaking of personality disorders, I'm not actually imitating the character of Travis Bickle in this. At least his personality. Travis Bickle and Faye Cop definitely have some overlap, but for the most part, they are really different people. And some of those differences will be on full display in this episode. Oh yes, I would also like to thank my very, very good friend, Mr. Steve Hughes, for participating in this episode. You may remember Big Steve from episode 71, The Enforcer. Steve is a cameo in this one. Okay, so if you know Taxi Driver, you will totally understand what's happening here. If you don't know Taxi Driver or if you don't know it well, you'll still get something out of this. In addition to the sheer insanity and stupidity, this episode is also about the modern gig economy, what it does to people, and how far someone is willing to go for a five-star rating. Anyway, will I finally improve my Uber rating and become a respected member of the Newmarket transportation community? Probably not, uh no. Will I finally stop taking every minor inconvenience as a deeply personal attack on my existence? Definitely not, no fucking way. And most importantly, will I finally do something about these unleashed dogs running around Newmarket like they own the whole fucking town? Uh yeah, probably. I'll probably do something about that. This is Uber Driver. Mr. Wellesman, fucking engage, man.

SPEAKER_02 13:21

Sick man talking. We got a sick man talking here. Sick man talking about it.

SPEAKER_04 14:07

Thank God for the rain, which has helped wash away the Tim Hortons cops and Upper Canada Mall receipts off the sidewalks. I'm working long hours now. Six in the afternoon to six in the morning, sometimes even eight in the morning. Six days a week, sometimes seven days a week. It's a long hustle, but it keeps me real busy. Especially when I'm huffing shoe polish. That stuff will keep you awake for days. Little trick I picked up selling shoes at Eggnu. Episode 42, check it out. Anyway, it's a tough job what I'm doing right now. Hard on the balls and the back, there's a lot of sitting involved. I'm doing Pilates now. I hope it helps. I can take in 30, sometimes 35 a week, sometimes even more when I do it off the app. Driving for Uber is a pretty sweet gig. They totally don't rip off the drivers. All the animals come out at night. Hockey players, loopers, shoe salesmen, sick, veno. Someday a real rain will come and watch officers come off the streets. I go all over. I take people to the dog patch. I take them to 99 steps. Kedswick, I don't care. Don't make no difference to me. It does to some. Some won't even take hockey players. Don't make no difference to me. I mean it's impossible not to. Newmarket's full of fucking hockey players. Each night when I return the 2002 Pontiac Sunfire to my parking spot at the basement apartments, I have to clean the back seat. Some nights I clean out the blood. Some nights I clean out the fruit loops. Twelve hours of work and I still can't sleep. Damn, days go on and on. They don't end. All my life. Meaning was a sense of someplace to go. Now I got somewhere to go. It just keeps changing every five minutes. Bing. There it is. New destination. New person. I don't need meaning anymore. I need five stars. I'm a professional Uber driver. Well, kinda, sorta, maybe. Technically, I'm really not. I stole the car and the account. It's a long story. You'll have to listen to some previous episodes to fully get that. I'm also a fake cop and a fake personal trainer. Actually, the personal training thing is on hold right now. Being a fake personal trainer is almost impossible in this economy. Being a fake cop is awesome in any economy, really, it is. Well, being a fake Uber driver, well, that's an obsession. Every ride is different. Every person thinks they're the main character. I deliver the experience. Five stars. That's the goal. That's the measurement. That's how they know you exist. Or don't send it by a two thousand two Pontiac Sunfire outside the AP grocery store across from the mall. The phone pays. And it says I have a new rap request from Ricky's Sports Bar to Newmarket Plaza. I start driving over, and when I get there, I see her walk out of the bar. And that's when I recognize her. I first saw her at the Tim Hortons at Longford and Davis. That's where Newmarket mayorial candidate Steve Hughes had his campaign headquarters. I guess she worked for the campaign or something anyway. She had blonde, feathered hair. She was wearing a motley crew t-shirt, acid washed jeans, and white heels. She appeared like an angel out of this filthy mess. She is alone. They cannot touch her. Hopefully I can, though. She's a total smoke show. I mean a 10 out of 10. She got into the car. Hey yo, how you doing? It's uh it's Mitzi, right? Yeah, they call me Brad or Cornelius. It uh depends, really. Anyway, uh, should we talk about that? Hey, can I try something on you real quick? I keep seeing that faded sticker on your bag. Yeah, I've seen it before a few times. Uh you've never seen me. Uh don't worry, nothing creepy about it at all. Nothing at all, don't worry. Anyway, that sticker looks like it might used to mean something, but now it's just worn out. It feels like maybe you're waiting for something to mean something again. Am I right?

SPEAKER_09 19:22

What? It's just a sticker.

SPEAKER_04 19:24

No, it's not. You're not a happy person, are you? Hey, listen, you uh you every fruit loops in the middle of the day. How do you feel about room temperature water? I mean that good stuff, I mean real room temperature. 21 and a half Celsius right the button. Come with me for a minute. We went for Fruit Loops and two glasses of room temperature water. And later that night, I took her to a movie at the Film Factory 6. Ah shit. I forgot to get her some Joe Louis. They don't sell them here, I get them at the T and B and smuggle them in. I've got some half moons and wagon wheels, though. Those are pretty sweet. Huh? Hey, uh, you're quiet all of a sudden. You all right?

SPEAKER_09 20:09

Yeah.

SPEAKER_04 20:09

Hey, that's not a yeah, that's a uh that's a call the cops, yeah.

SPEAKER_09 20:13

I'm trying.

SPEAKER_04 20:14

Tried what?

SPEAKER_09 20:15

To sit through this.

SPEAKER_04 20:17

To sit through this, it's just getting started.

SPEAKER_09 20:19

I know. That's the problem.

SPEAKER_04 20:21

What the fuck? Why? Because I didn't smuggle in any Joe Louis? I told you I've got half boons and wagon wheels. I mean, they're all right here. My pocket.

SPEAKER_09 20:29

I don't know why I came in here. I don't like this movie.

SPEAKER_04 20:33

You don't like the what are you talking about? It's cats, it's a musical. I thought chicks love musicals. Well, this one's got singing and dancing and all that shit. You know how they just start dancing and singing out of nowhere like it's normal, just like conversation or something, but it's not normal at all. Well, they got that mess I don't understand.

SPEAKER_09 20:52

Look, we do love musicals and we do love cats, but we love the stage version because well, because it was pure and magical. This movie, it's a grotesque distortion. Look at it, it's throwing all its energy into CGI. I can't believe I even attempted to watch it. Is this the kind of movie you like to watch?

SPEAKER_04 21:12

Well, no, actually, I hate this shit. I only watch action cop movies from the 80s and 90s. You know, uh, we could go see something else, so we'll take a look here. Um yeah. Oh, yeah, look at that. The next screen over is showing Black Rain. Oh, that's a great fucking movie, man. 1989 Neo Noir action thriller, directed by Ridley Scott, starring Michael Douglas, and Andy Garcia. Garcia got cut to pieces. I mean, literally, he got literally cut to pieces. They were like Japanese dudes with samurai swords. Well, he was just 27 years old. God damn it, Garcia. I guess he had it coming.

SPEAKER_09 21:53

My favorite Michael Douglas movie is Romancing the Stone. Look, we're just different. I have to go now. My Uber's.

SPEAKER_04 22:00

Your Uber? Hang on, I've got an Uber. I mean, we Ubered here in my Uber. Jesus Christ, whatever. Hey uh, can I still call you? It's um um shit. Um Mitzy, it's uh it's Mitzi, right?

SPEAKER_09 22:19

Call me for what?

SPEAKER_04 22:20

I don't know, something normal.

SPEAKER_09 22:22

You took me to Cats.

SPEAKER_04 22:25

I panicked. Look, hey, it was either that or black rain. No, uh, fruit loops. No, uh, room temperature water, 21 and a half Celsius, you know the good stuff.

SPEAKER_09 22:37

No!

SPEAKER_04 22:37

So what do you want from me, Mit? It is it's Mitzi, right?

SPEAKER_09 22:40

A different ride, and to never see you again.

SPEAKER_04 22:44

Okay, lady, suit yourself. But I had quite the night lined up for us, just so you know. Uh, after the movie, I was gonna take you down to the dump and shoot some rats, you know, maybe watch the trains. But hey, you're laws, Mitzi. Mitzi, right? Whatever it is.

SPEAKER_09 22:59

Just leave me alone.

SPEAKER_04 23:02

Jesus Christ, she calls an Uber. I am an Uber driver. Well, that's not gonna look good in my rating. I'm parked on Main Street outside the Lucky Devil tattoo parlor. Engine running, just watching the road like it's supposed to give me something eventually. Then it happens. No warning. A dog comes out of nowhere and jumps straight through the open back window. It hits the seats, claws clicking, like it's trying to understand where it is, like it just decided to be here but didn't finish the thought. Hey, no, no, no, what are you no, what are you doing? This is a vehicle, you don't just No, no. The owner shows up a second later. Normal guy slightly out of breath. Grab the dog by the collar. The dog fights at first but then relents. I watch in the rearview mirror. Then the dog owner drops a crumble toy on my passenger seat. For the hassle, he says that he's gone. I look at it. 20 bucks? What the fu for that? For that level of hassle. In this economy? I mean, what is this? 1976? I mean, 20 bucks supposed to be a big deal or something? What am I supposed to do with 20 bucks? They won't even take it at the T and B. I stick parked, engine still running, my phone goes off again. Another ride. Back to the Tim Hortons at Longford and Davis. Campaign headquarters for Newmarket Mayorial candidate Steve Hughes.

SPEAKER_00 24:52

I don't think they have to worry about anyone here recommitting themselves until things start coming in for the dog patch. Listen, this is just making me nervous. I think we should have waited for the limb on Steve.

SPEAKER_06 25:02

I don't mind taking an Uber, but I do mind going on the dog patch without preparation. This might get us in trouble. Uh hey, are you Steve Hughes, the candidate?

SPEAKER_04 25:11

Yes, I am. I'm one of your biggest supporters, you know. Uh, I tell everybody that comes in this Uber that they gotta vote for you. Why, thank you, uh Cornelius? I'm sure you're gonna win, Steve. Everyone I know who says they're gonna vote for you. I mean, dude, you've got some serious social currency. Episode 71, the enforcer, check it out. I mean, it's doing huge numbers. Most successful episode I've had so far. That's why I'm putting you in this episode, too. There's really no other reason. It's my numbers, man. My show numbers and my Uber rating. Nothing means more.

SPEAKER_06 25:44

Let me tell you something. I've learned a lot about New Market from riding in Ubers. I've learned nothing about New Market from riding in limos. Can I ask you something, Cornelius? Uh yeah, sure, I guess so. I mean, why not? What the fuck?

SPEAKER_04 25:55

What is the one thing that bugs you about this town the most? Uh well, I don't know. I don't follow political issues that closely, Steve. Uh, I don't really know. Well, there must be something. The dogs. It's the fucking dogs, Steve. Dogs just running around without leashes, especially in the goddamn street. Do you know how many animals run over every day and night, Steve? I'm telling you, it's fucking constant, man. I mean, I'm telling you, man, you're driving and there's just one there. It's like right in front of you. Like it belongs there, Steve. Like I'm the one who has to adjust or something. Like, does that fucking make sense to you, Steve? And you gotta react right away or you hit it. There's no warning, there's nothing, it just fucking appears, man. And nobody cares, Steve. Nobody reacts. That's what drives me crazy about it, man. Nobody even treats it like it's like it's fucking wrong, like it's just accepted now. Like like it's like it's part of how things are supposed to be, Steve. And finally something happens inevitably, and everyone's shocked. Like it just fucking came out of nowhere, like it just materialized. Like it just showed up one day, but it didn't. It was there the whole time, Steve, like it's been there every fucking day, man. You know, Steve, uh, fuck, man. Uh sometimes I go out and I I get these headaches so bad, you know. Cause you're just seeing it over and over again. And it doesn't make sense that nobody else is seeing it the same way. Starts to build up in your head, Steve, like like pressure, you know, man. Like like cause you're trying to understand how people can just fucking ignore it. I mean, how can you just drive past it, walk past it like it's nothing, Steve? I mean, there's a fucking dog in the middle of the street with no leash on him, man. Fuck. And I've had to slam the brakes so many times now I don't even trust a clear road anymore. A clear road, Steve, I don't trust a clear road. Do you know what that means? That means society's unraveling, Steve. When a man can't trust a clear road, I mean what the fuck? Steve, a clear road don't mean shit to me anymore, man. Cause I know something could just be there in a second. Probably a fucking dog just suddenly there, and everybody else just going about their day like it's fucking normal. Does that sound normal to you, Steve? No. You know, it's not just the dogs either, Steve. It's fucking everything, man. It's the same thing everywhere. People just letting things go, not tying things down, not thinking about what happens after nobody fucking thinks. And do you know how dangerous that is, Steve? By the way, that is a really cool fucking name. Steve, I wish my name was Steve anyway. Steve. Fucking dangerous. Driving with a load not properly tied down. Like it only has to work for them in that moment. And then it's somebody else's problem. But it doesn't stay somebody else's problem. I mean, it ends up right in front of you. Fucking in front of me, Steve. And I can't stop seeing it, man. I mean, I mean, once you see it, you you can't unsee it, Steve, you know. It's it's in everything people do, man. So, uh, uh, so yeah. It's uh it's the dogs, it's definitely the dogs. Whoever becomes mayor, he's gotta do something about unleashed animals or just flush the whole fucking town down the drain, Steve.

SPEAKER_06 29:11

Well, I think I know what you mean, Cornelius. It's not gonna be easy. We are gonna have to make some radical changes.

SPEAKER_04 29:18

Damn straight.

SPEAKER_06 29:19

Nice talking to you, Cornelius.

SPEAKER_04 29:21

It was nice talking to you too, Steve. Love that name. I know you're gonna win, man. You fucking asshole line second shit politician. He's not gonna do nothing about those dogs.

SPEAKER_05 29:34

Well, you learn a lot of things in an Uber. Like that guy. That shit crazy. Keep me out of the patch, keep me out of that Uber. That guy is gonna kill somebody one day. Probably gonna be me.

SPEAKER_04 29:57

My headaches were getting worse. I think I've got another kidney stone. I shouldn't complain though. You're only as healthy, you're only as healthy as you feel. You're only as healthy as you feel. Honestly, I feel like shit. Driving an Uber 20 hours a day, it is super hard on the balls and the back. I sure hope that Pilates pays off.

SPEAKER_01 30:38

Okay, go over the club right there. Right over the curve, right over there. No, no, no, no, no. Don't whoa whoa whoa, the fucking right. What are you doing? What are you doing with the right? Did I tie you to put did I tie you to put did I tie you to put a stop to the right? Put the right back on, let it go. I don't care, I wanna have to pay. I didn't tell you, I'm not getting out, put the right back on. Put it on, put it on, that's right, put it on. Put it on. That's right. Why type then? Don't tie it, put the thing on. You can just sit. I didn't tell you to type, I didn't tell you to do anything. I just said pull over the curve. We're gonna pull over the curve or are you gonna sit? We're gonna sit here. You see the light up there? The window, the light. The window up there on the second floor, what are you flying? Do you see the woman on the window? Do you see do you see the woman on the window? Yeah, I want you to see that one because that's my life. But that's not my apartment. That's not my apartment. You know who lives there? I mean you wouldn't know who lives there, but you know who lives there? A hockey player lives there. And I'm gonna kill him. Just nothing else, I'm just gonna kill him. What do you think of that? I said, What do you think of that? Don't answer. Don't answer. You don't have to answer everything. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna kill him with a 44 magnet pistol. You ever you ever see what a 44 magnet pistol can do to a hockey player's face? That you should see. What a 44 magnet pistol can do to a hockey player's face.

SPEAKER_04 31:44

Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, uh, I have seen that, you fucking idiot. Are you gonna shut up or what? Yapping away in my backseat like some fake tough guy trying to tell me what to do. Pull over here, look over there. Did you call me fucking blind? Listen, fella, if you're looking for a five-star rating, this is not the way to go about it. Fuck. I'll tell you what, hot shot. I think I got a 44 Magnum around me right now. Hang on, let me look in the old glove compartment here. Uh let me see, uh, uh, let's see here. It's a uh that's a 38 snub nose. Got a um nine millimeter glob. Decent weapon, but uh not what you're looking for. Uh Desert Eagle, it's fucking close, but uh not quite Ah, yeah, here it is. Yeah, right here, right here. 44 Magnum. Yeah, there it is, a 44 Magnum. Yeah, I knew I had one here somewhere. Lucky for you. Here, go ahead. Yeah, you can use mine. Your hands are too fucking small, but you never know. Come on, man, go up there right now and show that hockey player what a 44 magnum does to his face. Matter of fact, you don't have to do that, do ya? Well, you can just shoot it right into the fucking window. It's a powerful fucking gun, man, but you already know that, don't you? What what do you mean? What what do you mean? What do you gotta fucking stutter now? You're pretty free talking before, won't you, buddy? What are you waiting for? Here's a fucking gun, the exact gun you apparently love so much. There's a fucking hockey player. No, look, look, look, look. No one over there, look, the window, the window, you see the window? Yeah, how do you fucking like who are you fucking blind? Yeah, go on, tough guy. Oh, or did you want me to do it? Huh? Would that be easy for look, I don't even need a gun. I'll just sweep his fucking leg. Fucking hockey players, fuck them, man. Look, if I was your wife, I'd be banging that hockey player too. Fuck your annoying. Jesus Christ, man. I've been listening to you yapping away back there with your fake tough guy. Bullshit. Well, you really wanna know what a 44 Magnum does to a hockey player's face? Take a look in the trunk. Now get the fuck out of here before I stack you two fucking weirdo. Jesus Christ. Fuck is wrong with people today, man. Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Well, now that's what some people would call it. I wouldn't though. Things come in, they get looked at, and most of it just doesn't pass. That's not loneliness. That's just how it works. I don't keep things that don't meet standard. I am not God's lonely man. I am God's quality control department. Davis Drive runs straight and indifferent, like it has no interest in who survives it. Just another run, cruising for rides, nothing special. Then out of nowhere, this dog just comes out between parked cars like it's supposed to be there. The same dog that jumped in my car. No leash, of course. And I just stop. The dog stops too right in front of me like it like it's confused I exist. And all I can think of is an unleashed animal. No control, no awareness. And somewhere, there's an owner who decided that was fine. Then the dog just walks off like nothing happened, like I'm the interruption. Fuck there. I make a couple of turns. The dog keeps reappearing ahead of me. I follow. The house looks normal in a way that almost feels insulting. Like nothing unusual has ever happened here and probably never will. Well, that was about to change. I mean, really change. Porch light on, door half open. A calm evening that doesn't match anything that just happened on Davis Drive. A knock on the door. He answers casually, like I'm there to ask about directions or something. Hey, yeah. No urgency. Just a guy mid-life. Mid-evening, mid-nothing. I look past him for a second, then back. Your dog. Oh yeah, he's around somewhere. Yeah, I'm noticed. And now I'm here. Did you did you follow my dog? I followed where it kept reappearing. Man, what? I glanced past him again. The sighting on the side of your house is slightly uneven. Not enough to matter today, but I will eventually. He turns his head to look without meaning to. Dude, the sighting is fine. What are you talking about? I didn't say it wasn't fine, did I? I said it's uneven. He pauses like he's trying to place the category of conversation. Okay, man, look, I mean, he's just a dog. Yeah, that's what I thought at first too. He looks back at me now, less casual than before.

SPEAKER_03 36:26

But what do you want?

SPEAKER_04 36:28

Containment. Control. A leash on that animal. And if you have any shoe polish hanging around, I sure could use some of that. I am Jonesin' real bad right now, anyway. Does that dog leave your premises?

SPEAKER_03 36:40

Yeah, it does. It's a dog, it goes outside.

SPEAKER_04 36:43

I've seen it outside in more than one location. That's not the same thing. Dude, are you okay? Man, can I call somebody really? I don't think that's the reveling question, but if it matters, no, I am not okay. I'm addicted to shoe polish, as I just mentioned. I sniff it all day and night. It's become a bit of a problem, really. I don't sleep, mostly because of the fucking shoe polish. I eat white bread soaked in milk and peach brandy and powdered sugar and fruit loops too, a lot of them. That's basically it, that's all I eat. I drive all night, all day sometimes. I deal with dogs running into traffic like it's part of the weather now. I took a woman of cats, yeah, I know I see your face. I know what I did, you know, to fucking tell me. You know, that was my attempt at something normal, but she left, you know, like fucking immediately. She said something about it being a distortion of something that used to mean something or whatever the fuck, I don't remember the exact wording anyway, but she was right to leave. I had that coming. I talk to myself in the mirror sometimes, uh really all the time, actually. Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Worst of all, I I drive for Uber, and I got a 1.4 rating, and I can't raise a fucking thing to save my life, man. It's driving me nuts. The dog owner just looks at me now, like he's waiting for me to turn into a simpler version of myself that he can deal with. I don't. And for a moment, it feels like the whole porch is waiting for instructions that aren't coming. You cannot have an animal loose like that. I said, that is not acceptable, but that's not how anything works. You put a leash on that animal. I'll see you around. Sport. June 29th. I gotta get in shape now. Too much sitting has ruined my body, too much abuse has gone on for too long. From now on, I'll do five push-ups each morning, hopefully six, but probably just four. Pull-ups, I'll do those too. Maybe one, we'll see, hopefully one, but uh probably not. I will do some light stretching, but nothing heavy. I will do jumping jacks and all-gray sweatsuit. Those are weird, I know, but I'll wear them. No more shoe polish, no more foot loops. There will be no more destroyers in my body. From now on, there will be total organization. Maybe some, hopefully, a little bit. Every muscle must be tight, or at least giving the impression that they are tight because five push-ups really won't do shit, will it? The idea had been growing in my brain for some time. True force. All the king's men could not put it back together again. I think it was time for a night ride. The 2002 Pontiac Sunfire's engine was idling. Same sound every time, like it's waiting for something I'm not given it, or maybe like it already knows I'm gonna disappoint it anyway. Davis, Leslie, you line. I keep it smooth through the turns, no sudden breaking. That affects my rating. People don't like surprises, even good ones, especially good ones. A surprise is just a mistake that hasn't been explained yet, and I don't have the kind of rating that can survive misunderstandings. 1.4. That's not a number, that's a warning, that's a PSA. You wear it like a scarlet letter. You can't escape it. It haunts you everywhere you go, it dictates the course and quality of your life. It really does, trust me. Anything under 4.7, they start looking at your difference. 1.4, they start looking at your real difference. Like, how do you even have this job? And why in the fuck did I get into this car with you? Those are legitimately fair questions. I wouldn't get in with me no fucking way. I wouldn't even stand near me. Honestly, I wouldn't even rate me. I'd just walk away and report the vehicle. I've already tried the basics: bottled water, room temperature, of course. Not cold, no way. Because cold shocks the system, and it's rough on the bladder. People don't think about that, but I do. I'm thinking about the bladder at all times. Now that's value. Care packages, band-aids, fruit loops. That says generosity, that says trust. I calibrate small talk to the individual, voice, posture, shoes. I build a profile in under three seconds, and deliver conversation that matches their psychological bandwidth exactly. But it didn't matter. It didn't move the needle, it just made failure more polite. Simply caring wasn't gonna be enough. That's why I normally don't care about shit. I mean like nothing. 1.4 stays 1.4 left on debut. So I started thinking maybe this isn't about comfort. Maybe comfort is invisible, and invisible gets you erased. Maybe it's about experience. People don't remember smooth rides, they remember moments, something they can point to later and say, yeah, that was something. Mitzi didn't remember the ride, she remembered the movie. Wrong choice. Misread the situation. That's on me. Ride on young. Hang on here. I don't think you can make a ride on young from Baby. But who fucking cares? I've done it anyway. There's a version of that night where I picked something normal, something tested, the notebook, the fucking devil wears Prada, whatever it's called. Something that already works on people. Something with a track record, no variables. Instead, I went cats. That's not a five-star decision. That's a 1.4. I tap the screen. Fuck. Still there. Doesn't move. Numbers should move. Everything moves if you apply pressure in the right place. Battle goes down, speed goes up, brake goes down, speed goes down. You do something, and something responds. That's how systems are supposed to work. But that 1.4 just sits there like it's already decided what I am. At a certain point, it stops being a rating and starts being a diagnosis. Eagle, young, Davis again. Same roads, different paths. That's the job. You keep circling until something changes. Or you do. People don't understand what 1.4 means. It's not uh bad. Bad is temporary. 1.4. Now that's fucking structural. It means the system has already formed an opinion, but it's no longer open to suggestion. I'm not being evaluated anymore. I've been concluded. That's fine. Conclusions can be unconcluded. I just need to take it one level further. Not water, not mints, not fruit loops, not slightly used bed. Something they don't expect, you know? Something they don't forget, something that forces acknowledgement. Because what they do now is they average you, they take whatever happened and reduce it to a fine ride or weird guy, and they throw you a two or a three like it never mattered. They take whatever you do and they round it down to something manageable. I need something unmanageable, a moment so clear, it can't be averaged down into a three-star shrug. The problem is subtlety doesn't register at a 1.4. Subtlety gets erased. You have to go past subtle, past noticeable, into something that disrupts the rating process itself. Something where they don't even know what button to press anymore. That's where the stars come from. I think about passengers as they actually are. Short-term judges, unqualified, emotional, hungry, confused. They are frequently confused. They don't evaluate the full system, they evaluate moments. So I only need one moment that overrides the rest. Just one. Not good, not even great, but definitive. Something that forces a decision. It's either five stars or call the cops. Nothing in between. Now that's where I need to be operating now. I drive back to the basement apartment. It was time for dress rehearsal. Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me? Huh? What? Well for Christ's sakes, man, when you fucking speak up, well, who else would you be talking to? I'm the only one here. So if something gets said and I hear it, then that's for me. That's just basic, right? That's not even an opinion, that's just how it works. Yeah, and I know that move too. When you say something, then you go quiet right after, like it didn't happen. Like it just disappears, but it doesn't disappear. It finds somewhere. And right now it found here. So now I gotta deal with it. So you're either talking to me, or you're not talking to me. Those are the only two options. There's nothing in between, and if you are, then now we got something, don't we? Because you started it. And once you start something, you don't get to step back and act like you didn't. That's not how that works. And if you're not talking to me, then why am I fucking hearing it, man? Why is it coming in my direction? You don't accidentally send something at somebody, that's intention, whether you admit it or not. So now I'm looking at intent. And see, that's where people get themselves in trouble. Because if they think they don't follow through, it doesn't count. But it already counted the second it left your fucking mouth. So now it's here, now it exists. Now, it's a situation. You know, man, I'll give you a chance. I'll always give a chance. You clear it up, you say what you meant, and then we move on, that's it. It's no problem, but if you don't do that, if you just stand there and let it fucking hang, then it doesn't go away. It just sits there, and now it's on me to figure out what to fucking do with it. Yeah, you were talking to me. Yeah, that's enough thought. Shitty who listen you fuckers, you screw heads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. Who would not let listen, you fuckers, you screw heads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. Who stood up against this slow, dumb collapse, the constant drip of things slipping. Here is a man who sees it, who's not gonna sit there while everything slides inch by inch in a chaotic stupidity. Here is Dear Father and Mother, I figured I'd write. Not for any specific reason. I know there are dates I am supposed to remember, birthdays and shit like that. I just don't have them exactly lined up right now. So this can cover everything at once. It's more efficient that way, you would agree, I think. Things are going well here. I'm working a lot, staying busy, keeping everything in order. The job's been steady, there are a few complications. Nothing major, just the usual stuff you get anywhere. People not paying attention, letting things slide. I know you hate that dead. Dogs running around off leash like that is a normal way to operate. It is not. But nobody seems to want to address it properly. It is a slippery slope, but I've got a handle on it. Other than that, everything is totally fine. I am healthy. I am making lots of money, or at least some money, or at least a little bit of money. I have been seeing someone for a while. Her name is Mitzi. I totally didn't take her to Katz. You'd probably like her, although probably not, she is kind of a snob, but she is a total smoke show. I can't get into details right now, but just know it is a totally stable situation because I am a totally stable man, as you know. I have not sent my address like I said I would. The nature of what I'm doing requires a certain level of discretion. Discretion. Anyway, nothing to worry about. It just means I have to be careful about what I put down and where. I hope everything is good on your end. I assume it is, I don't know really. Uh if anything has changed, I'm sure I'll hear about it eventually or whatever. Don't worry about me. One day there will be a knock on the door and it will be me. Then you will probably call the cops because of what happened last time, but whatever. Wasn't my fault. I finished the letter to my parents that will totally not freak them out. Then something moves past the window. I already know what it is. The dog. I think it was time I took it to the park and gave it a good talking, too. You know you're looking at me like you don't understand a word I'm saying. But I'm trying to be clear with you, I'm trying to get through to you. How old are you supposed to be, huh? Twelve? You're not built for this. You're out here like there's no system, no structure. Just fucking running around like nothing can touch you. Hey, hey, look at me. What are you doing? Nah, seriously, what are you doing out here like this? You remember me, right? You jumped into my car, like just fucking climbed in like that made sense? Like that was a normal thing to do? Yeah, figures. Listen to me. You can't be out here like this. No leash, no nothing, just wandering the street like it belongs to you. That's how it happens. Quick, stupid. Just one second and it's over. You shouldn't be out here. You should be in a yard, in a leash, with somebody who actually knows where you are. Not this. This isn't even you, you know, it's your owner, it's a fucking owner, man. Yeah, I met him. He said you're usually fine, right? That's what he said. Usually doesn't mean shit in these streets. I mean, that was Davis Drive. He lets you run around like it's no big deal, like there's no end to that line. But there is. There's always an end. Just ask Mendoza. God damn it, Mendoza. Anyway, you don't know him, listen. You don't even see it. Okay? You just you just go along with it. You don't stop, you don't question it. You just run into it like it's fucking normal. It is not normal. You jumping into my car like that? That's not control. That is the opposite of control. So what are you doing, huh? What are you doing? What you just gonna keep doing this? No leash, no awareness? What, just waiting for that one time it goes wrong? Fuck. Hey, don't look at me like I'm some square. You're the square. Look now, I take in myself. I'm a responsible man, not reckless at all. But I'm not allowed dogs in my basement apartment. Besides, I um uh I might be going away for a while, but there might be something I can do for ya. Alright, let's get the fuck out of here. There's too many dogs here. I go for a drive. Usually there's no destination, but usually, is it now? I can feel it building now. Not from one thing, but from it all stacking together. The road, the brakes, the fucking dogs, of course, the car, my shitty Uber rating is both driver and passenger. The fact that I inexplicably have a fucking mohawk now. Although it does look pretty cool, I do admit, that I see him. Same guy. Walking up the street like this is routine, just casually retrieving the problem after it's already happened. His goddamn dog is loose again, even after I talk to both of them. He calls after it like it's a suggestion, not an instruction, and it doesn't even fucking respond the first time. I tell him it's him again, it's your fucking dog man. Same situation. And of course, he gives me that half apologetic. Like that's supposed to resolve anything. It doesn't. It has happened twice now. Same dog, same streak, same lack of control. That's not an accident, that's a pattern. He tries to keep a light, says it's just a dog. Like calling it small doesn't mean it has consequences, man. Meanwhile, the dog is like it's all over me, man. Brushing against my legs, jumping up on me. Completely unregulated. It says it's friendly, which doesn't mean anything. Friendly isn't controlled. Friendly still interferes. So I lay it out clearly. He is operating without control. That's the issue, not if it's friendly or not, that's fucking irrelevant, man. He exhales, getting irritated, says he'll take the dog inside, like that's supposed to fix what's already happened. Fuck. I ask where the leash is. He says inside, which is exactly the problem. Inside doesn't apply to the street. Then he says it's his dog and he'll handle it. And that's when it becomes obvious he doesn't understand the situation at all. Because if he were handling it, I wouldn't be standing here correcting it. I move a little closer and explain it again, slower this time, that I almost hit the dog twice. And that affects my vehicle, my record, my Uber rating, my standing as a professional. He insists he has it under control, even though he's just holding the fucking collar. Which isn't control, that is containment after failure. That's when I notice a light come on in one of the houses. A door opens. Someone steps out onto the porch looking over. I'd register that immediately. Now it's expanding. Now there are additional variables. He turns over and calls out that everything's fine, that it's just a misunderstanding. But that's not correct either. Because I understand exactly what's going on. I tell him not to do that, not to involve anyone else. Because now the situation is spreading beyond where it should have been handled in the first fucking place. He says he's going inside like that just ends it. Like he can just walk away and reset without fixing anything. And that's the moment where it becomes clear that if it doesn't stop here, it doesn't stop at all. Hey dude, you look familiar.

SPEAKER_03 56:28

Aren't you that Uber driver you came here before? The fuck was that about? And why do you have a mohawk now? The fuck you say my mohawk? You think this is a fucking statement?

SPEAKER_04 56:37

I didn't choose this. I am losing my hair, you insensitive prick. I'm losing everything. Well, you think I woke up and said, yeah, today's the day I become this, some guy with a fucking mohawk? No. This is what happens when things stop holding. When nothing stays where it's supposed to stay. It starts going piece by piece. Hair, sleep, focus, just fucking gone. This is fallout. My hair is literally falling out, man, but uh just from the sides, it's kinda weird. It starts at the edges, and then it moves inward to your heart, to your soul, to your mind. Next thing you know, you got a mohawk, bloodshot eyes, a shoe polish addiction, and a big fucking gun. The dog jumps again. I I brush it off sharper this time. Get it off me. That's fucking twice, man. Twice.

SPEAKER_03 57:31

Okay, man, relax. It's just a dog.

SPEAKER_04 57:34

No, no, no, no, no, no. Don't reduce it. That's what you're fucking doing. I know what you're doing. You keep shraking it so you don't have to fix it. That's when I register the presence of a large man two lawns over. The dog owner's neighbor. He looks between us and calls out. Casual but loaded with meaning. Hey Dave, everything okay? You want me to handle this? That word strikes wrong. Handle. Like this is just something that could be taken over. Just fucking resolved. Like he just tossed me a two-star rating. I turned toward him. Oh, you'll handle it. Okay, hot shot, walk me through that. Let's talk about what that's gonna look like. A step closer. So what your handle here, neighborhood watchman? You taking over containment now? Based on what? Proximity? Fucking porch elevation? Motherfucker, you think you can handle the road, the brakes, the part where this just keeps fucking happening? You're gonna handle Dave or whatever his fucking name is, letting it out again tomorrow. Huh? Huh? Next time this dog runs into traffic, you're gonna handle that too? Because if you can't handle any of that, what makes you think you can handle me? The neighbor hesitates, then tries to reassert himself. I used to handle guys like you all the time on the ice, eh? Oh well, well, well, well. So you're a hockey player, are ya?

SPEAKER_03 59:01

Yeah, I fucking right I'm a hockey player. I wanna fucking go.

SPEAKER_04 59:19

Fucking hockey players, man. Somebody's gotta put a leash on them, too, or uh some bullets in this particular case. I turned back to the dog owner, whose name is apparently Dave, but not that I give a fuck. Now, where were we? And that's when the dog padded and crashed right into my leg. My gun accidentally went off. The bullet hitting him right in the guts. Not the dog, the owner of not shooting a fucking dog. Now, ironically, this was an accident because uh I was planning on doing this anyway. I was just planning it on doing it in a much cooler way than by accident. But whatever, man, I'll take this. I don't need fucking style points. I looked down at him as he squirmed. Fuck with my rating. Are you out of your mind, Dave, or whatever your fucking name is? Now do you get it, Dave? You get it now, Dave. What happens when you don't keep a leash on your animal, Dave? Fuck, man. This whole moment could have been prevented, but no. You had to get cocky and not control your animal. Hey man, I've been trying to tell ya. I guess you had it comin'. You know, I bet Mendoza would agree. Where is he? Hang on here, I gotta look for him in my brain. Ain't that right, Mendoza? For God's sakes, Brad. Leave me out of this. Then the neighborhood opens up. Doors open, lights on, figures appearing in driveways, on porches. Halfway through movement, like they've been interrupted mid-reality. No one is fully reacting yet. They're still catching up to what they think they saw. A woman stands there gripping her phone too tight without looking at it. A man steps onto his lawn and stops, like his body isn't sure it should keep moving forward. Someone's already asking what happened, what happened, what happened. Repeating it like repetition might turn confusion into clarity. I don't slow down. I just register them as options. Most of them aren't too affected, too emotionally pulled into whatever this is. They're not usable. They're part of the reaction, not the structure. They're too invested, too unstable, but one of them isn't. He's not rushing, he's not asking. He's just watching in a way that doesn't commit to meaning yet. Not really detached, but um, unassigned. That's the one. I walk straight to him with a dog. You're taking it. He hesitates. Uh what, man? Uh hey man, is Dave alright? Just keep it contained, goddammit. On a leash at all times. No loose movement, especially near traffic areas. He's trying to process what kind of conversation this is supposed to be. So I don't give it room to settle. The leash is already in his hand before it becomes a discussion. And then I add, and if you're transporting anything, fellow, make sure it's secured properly. Nothing unrestrained, understood? Nothing pisses me off more than driving with a load not properly tied down. Fuck I hate that. Not even an unleashed animal. Although that is a close second, as you can see here, um I should probably get out of here soon. He stands there holding the dog like it's been given to him without contacts, which to be fair it has. The dog shifts once, then settles into a new confusion. Behind him, people are still reacting, trying to piece together what they walked into, but it's not resolving into anything clear for them. I don't stay for that part. Like I said, I should probably get the fuck out of here. I'm already turning back to the 2002 Pontiac Sunfire door, seatbelt, engine. As I pulled away, it's still unresolved for them, but for me, it isn't. They said it was a tragedy, a senseless act of violence. They said the community was in shock. Then the town council met. Public safety, uncontrolled animals, new bylaws, leash laws, fines, seizures. They called it Dave's Law, or whatever his fucking name was. They put up sides on every street. Keep your dog leashed. Protect our community. A woman posted a message on Facebook. She said something good had to come from the pain. She said maybe this was a wake-up call. Then the story changed. They started using different words. Intervention, prevention, civic action. I like that one. Someone posted my picture. Said I stepped in when no one else would. Said I saw the pattern. Passengers started recognizing me.

SPEAKER_02 1:04:00

Hey, you're the gun!

SPEAKER_04 1:04:02

They don't understand. The tragedy and the law aren't separate things. You don't wait for change. You force it. You break the pattern. I broke the pattern. Now, the streets are safer. Now, the dogs are leashed. Now, the system works. And also now, 1.6, 2.1, 2.4. It's slow, it's never fast. It's hard to recover from a 1.4. But for the first time, it responds positively anyway. I used to hand out bottled water. Nobody fucking noticed. Well, hello, hello yourself. Um uh shit, uh, Mitsi Raya Mitsi, how you doing, Mitsi? Hello. That was a good save, almost forgot again.

SPEAKER_09 1:05:22

I read about you online. How are you?

SPEAKER_04 1:05:24

Uh, that was nothing I got over that. The internet always blows shit up. It was just a little misunderstanding. It got um handled. Hey, I hear Steve got the nomination. Hey, I hope he wins. I bet he won't do anything about the fucking dogs, though. Sorry? Uh, nothing, forget that. Uh hey, uh, I heard Black Rain is still playing at the Film Factory 6. Why don't I swing by the old TB convenience store? And then we can smuggle some Joe Louise in. What do you say? Uh, Mitzi, right, you? Black Rain and Joe Louise? Now that's a five-star night. And we can still shoot some rats down at the dump.

SPEAKER_08 1:07:02

Who will you find go? Sometimes it's more than you can tell.