The Devil is a Cab Dispatcher

A round of shaken hands for all, the Lexiphage is back in town.
So Mya is headed back to school tomorrow; she did her first day on Wednesday and apparently took to it quite well. The day-care professionals are less tolerant than I of chocolate milk spills, so it looks like I'll have to pack several shirts for her every day; however, she appears to be learning some communication skills; she said "Hi" to me upon my return, and appears to be speaking a little more already.
In other Mya-related news, she went for another walk with me yesterday, beating her previous record of a half a block by about 50 or 60 feet (for you young Uns, that's about 15-18 metres. I don't know what the metric equivelant of a block is).
Gavin is really starting to take to the Big Brother role, apparently running to her defence whenever she is distressed either at daycare or in the company of a babysitter... which brings me back to the subject of my anger management classes (by way of needing a babysitter while I'm gone to them... C'mon, work with me here!).
As you probably saw in the title above, the Lexiphage has a slight greivance against a certain transportation-related occupation. I don't know if this happens to you all, but it seems whenever I call a cab and ask how long the wait will be, I get the standard "5 to 10 minutes" response; however, this never actually answers the question, because in Taxi-ese, apparently "5 to 10 minutes" translates into "at least 20 minutes, but probably more. Tell you what, start walking now, and when you get where you were going, call the cab company back and ask if they bothered to send anyone." TWICE in a row now, attempting to leave the Fortress of Anger, I have called the local cab company, and guess how many times they said "5 to 10 minutes?"
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Stay with me here...
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The actual journey to where I catch the bus to return to civilization is approximately a 10 minute drive away, assuming pretty heavy, crappy traffic.
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Still with me?
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Now guess how many times it has taken me an hour and ten minutes to catch the bus.
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If you guessed two out of two, you're bang on. And going in the opposite direction, to the Fortress of Anger, the service is only slightly better- you have a 50/50 shot at either the 45 minute or the extra-quick 25 minute "5 to 10 minutes". It actually takes me approximately the same amount of time to travel BY BUS to WOODBRIDGE as is does to travel BY CAB to ANOTHER PLACE IN WOODBRIDGE, THAT'S LESS THAN 2 MILES AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know, it wouldn't bother me so much if they just said "We're really busy. It'll be 45 minutes before a cab gets there, and when he does, he'll be the guy who smells like barfed-up garlic stew and can't speak a word of English, French, or even Indostani. But we appreciate your business!"
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Next time, I'm going to call the cab company, order a pizza, eat the pizza, digest the pizza, sit and wait for the cab for a REAL 5-10 minutes, then walk the whole way myself, and then call the cab company again. Then when they tell me they're sorry for the delay but the cab will be there in 5-10 minutes, I'll call them every 5-10 minutes for the next three weeks just to let them know the time. And I'll burp into the phone really loud too, just to be a jerk.
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I also think I'll tell telemarketers from now on that my work number is the cab company's, and they should call me there.
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Well, if I start on any more subjects, I'll have to write more of these: ..., and we wouldn't want that, so I guess I'll go listen on the phone for any phone-tap clicky noises, and then I can tell the government off directly.
Until next time, stay satietous!
The Sardonic Lexiphage.