I've been experimenting lately with working a mixture of nights and days to figure out what works for me. There's a lot more money to be made at night -- and probably better stories for the blog. The downside of the night shift is that it makes it a lot harder to be a good dad and husband. Also, Mary is teaching in New Orleans, so if I can synchronize my schedule with hers we can commute together -- thus carving out a little more couple time and saving some money on fuel. Long term, I'll probably have to choose either days or nights because switching back and forth is just too physically demanding.
Last week I did better than expected on the day shift. I mentioned the H&R Block convention in an earlier post. Just as the accountants were clearing out the National Alliance of Black School Educators came to town, and I did OK with those guys too. I rode up and down in front of the convention center shouting, "We got a teachers' discount today!" Even when I didn't get riders, at least I got lots of big smiles.
Since it's so much harder to make money in the daytime, the rent that our company charges operators to ride during the day is ridiculously low compared to the night rate. As I was paying up at the end of a profitable shift, one of the brothers who co-runs the company said, "We're probably having to raise our day rate soon." And the other brother said, "Yeah, we'll call it the Mark factor."
Like I said, that was last week. Apparently, there aren't any conventions in town this week. Financially, yesterday was the worst day of my brief career. I had very few riders, and though all of them were fair with me, none were particularly generous tippers.
The good news is that I ran into two old friends whom I hadn't seen in many long years. Both of them are now working in downtown New Orleans, one as a concierge at a hotel in the Central Business District and the other as a tour guide on a mule carriage in the French Quarter. (The CBD and the French Quarter are two adjacent parts of the city that that make up most of our territory.) I'm excited to know that these guys are in the neighborhood and for the chance to renew old friendships.
(When I mentioned that I has having a slow day, the concierge said that Thanksgiving week is always a slow time for tourism in New Orleans.)
Another bright spot yesterday was a pair of passengers who gave me a really good laugh, which I suppose is the next best thing to a really generous tip. They were middle-aged, very overweight women, and as we sailed down Decatur, one of them was singing at the top of her lungs: "Don't cha wish your boyfriend had a bike like mine!" (to the tune of "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me.")
"Are we the fattest people you've ever hauled?" they asked me.
"Not by a long shot." I answered. "I had these two girls the other night. I told them I might have to charge them by the pound!" (This was true by the way.)
"Well, we may not be the fattest, but I bet we're the most fun," one of them said.
"Well I'd have to say that you rank pretty high up there," I told them.
Before I found this job, I turned down a job selling life insurance. That job offered the potential to make a lot of money. But I figure that even a bad day driving a bike taxi is a lot more fun than a good day selling insurance. I'm just speaking for myself here. I've got a good friend who absolutely loves selling life insurance, and I'm happy for him.
It takes courage and faith (and no small amount of intentional deprogramming from the "American Dream") to do something you enjoy vs. something that would suck the life out of you but would pay even a tiny bit more. I too have turned down a job that would have been very financially profitable, but would have made me miserable every single day. Even KNOWING that I would have been MISERABLE, it was still a tough decision to make. How sick is that?
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